#Imagine if I get witch hunted which I thought I was when I suddenly had people I blocked on VRC try to friend me on Discord.

[shelleylovesloki]

Warped Reality

Summary: Being a student at the Sanctum Sanctorum  is never easy, especially when there is a group of rogue sorcerers led  by a mad man on the lose. Rose (Michelle) and Rachel never thought their lives  could become any more chaotic. But when Rachel is given an assignment to  hunt down Amadeus Rainer, a rogue sorcerer from the Sanctum, their  lives both take a drastic turn. Besides a band of evil sorcerers, they  are pulled into the mission to retrieve an infinity stone with the  potential to open other realms. But while on this mission, past traumas  are reopened, powers rediscovered, and realities reshaped in ways that  both women never could have imagined. And with the help of a certain God  of Mischief, the three sorcerers run into an ancient prophecy that  could open up their universe to a villain that reshapes the  understanding of magic itself. 

Chapter 6: The Start of a Long Journey

It was too early for this. 

Michelle was never a morning person, preferring her beauty rest over everything else. But for Dr. Strange’s sake, she would be a morning riser for just this once. The meeting was supposed to start in five minutes, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. There was no desire for her to take on an assignment to find a person she had a strange feeling towards, especially since they barely knew each other. Her foot tapped against the dark hardwood floor as she waited for Rachel to answer. 

“Rachel, are you almost ready? We’ve got three minutes before the meeting!” She called, starting to grow impatient. 

The door suddenly opened, revealing Rachel in her Sanctum robes, ready for the day. 

Michelle smiled as she jokingly mocked, “Took you long enough.” 

Rachel sighed as she rolled her green eyes. 

“Very funny Michelle.” 

The young sorceress looked over her clothing. 

Michelle raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“What is it?” She asked in confusion.

”I just never get why you refuse to wear the Sanctum robes. You’ve never really told me the true reason.” Rachel asked as she shut her door before they walked down the darkened hallways, shining with late morning light. 

Michelle tensed up as she looked down at her hands, which were beginning to shake uncontrollably. 

The tattoos lit up a deep purple as she stammered, “I-I am not like you, Rachel… I made my own uniform because...I feel trapped here in this place. The Sanctum Sanctorum is not my home. I’m a born and raised witch, not a sorceress that follows the magical arts. That uniform, these teachings we follow, they’re not me. And the uniform change just helps me to feel more at home with myself. That’s all.” 

Michelle looked away in embarrassment. 

“Oh Rose…” Rachel said sadly. 

Michelle shook her head. 

“Let’s just get to the meeting so I can try to weasel my way out of this predicament.” She interrupted, walking faster down the hall. 

Rachel jogged to catch up to her. 

Michelle turned and pushed open the old deep maroon wooden doors. Inside stood Strange, Wong, and Mordo talking about plans to possibly return Amadeus to the Sanctuary. 

Doctor Strange was the first to notice their presence. 

“I know that face Rose. You are not getting out of this one.” Strange said as he turned towards them both. 

Michelle’s shoulders slumped. 

“But Dr. Strange-” She protested only for the Sorcerer Supreme to cut her off, holding his hand up. 

Michelle pouted her lips as she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. 

“We need your abilities Rose. You are necessary to this mission.” Mordo said. 

“So I’m just a tool you can use to your every whim?” She frowned as a hand rested gently on her shoulder. 

Michelle turned to see Rachel looking at her, shaking her head. A silent plea for her to stop. 

The young witch pursed her lips tightly as her face turned a slight shade of red in protest. 

“You are not a tool, Silver Witch. You are a part of the equation to help us right the wrongs happening right now.” Wong said. 

Michelle frowned at him. 

“That does not make it sound any better Wong.” She replied unamused. 

“Okay, can we just start this meeting before a brawl breaks out.” Rachel demanded. 

Everyone looked at her before returning to the map of New York City. Strange waved the two girls forward. 

Michelle and Rachel slowly came towards the mahogany table. Spread out over the top of the deep wooden table was a map of New York City. Mordo put his hand over it and the map became 3D, rising before their eyes. Michelle could see the skyscrapers, the Sanctum Sanctorum, the movie theater down the block, and the hot dog cart where she would get her lunch every Monday from a kind elder gentleman named Stan. 

“The last sighting of Amadeus was a few blocks away by a local cafe on the south side of Manhattan. We haven’t been able to pinpoint his location since then.” Mordo said. 

“Did you send out rookies?” Michelle asked knowingly. 

“All of the skilled sorcerer’s were on tasks. We had to give the trainee’s a chance.” Wong replied unamused at getting called out for his lack of wisdom. 

Michelle rolled her eyes. 

“If they are not trained for this sort of task, then you won’t get anything. The last time I saw the magic trail was when we found Rachel on the apartment building roof in Manhattan. At this point Amadeus could be anywhere within the city, and that is a lot of ground to cover.” She commented. 

“Which is why we need you to scour the area with Rachel. Search the Manhattan area for clues as to where he has gone and report back what you have found out.” Strange said. 

“And what if he isn’t in Manhattan?” Rachel asked. 

Michelle looked at her. 

There was something she was keeping to herself. She could sense it. 

“Then we’ll search the other metropolitan areas as well until we pinpoint an exact location.” Mordo said. 

“And then you find out he has left the country. That isn’t a very good plan.” Michelle said. 

“Then what would you suggest Rose?” Dr. Strange asked her. 

Michelle looked at the Sorcerer Supreme. She returned her attention to the map. 

“Spread the search to all parts of New York. Send out groups of young trainee’s to scout the location’s he has last been seen. And telling the Avengers about our little problem couldn’t hurt as well.” She suggested. 

“Amadeus isn’t an Avengers level threat.” Strange replied. 

“And the Sanctuary didn’t think Loki was an Avengers level threat until he laid waste to a third of Manhattan with an alien army. Don’t underestimate ambitious men, Doctor. Their ego over-drives their will making them a force to be reckoned with. You made this mistake once, don’t make it again.” She said putting the sorcerer’s in their place. 

None of them said a word. 

Michelle put a loose strand of her light brown hair behind her ear as she waited for them to regain their soiled pride. The Cloak of Levitation ruffled her hair in approval, making her smile. 

“Both of you start looking around the Manhattan area. We will choose groups to go around the other metropolitan areas. If you find anything, report back immediately. Good luck.” Strange said. 

Michelle and Rachel nodded and walked out of the room. 

“You looked like you knew something about Amadeus’ location in the meeting room.” Michelle commented. 

Rachel paled before she looked at her. 

“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you when we are out of the Sanctum.” She said, 

Michelle nodded and followed her to the door. The two women walked out onto the street. 

“So where do we start?” Rachel asked. 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Oh shit, I never told you that Merlin isn’t my actual name??

Igraine reveals… one hell of a secret, and not the one you’re thinking of:

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4(final part)(coming soon)

TW: Uther being a Jackass I guess?

Arthur knows about his dumbass servant’s magic. He wasn’t best pleased, in fact, he was furious when he first found out; how is supposed to protect his servant-turned-best-friend-except-that’s-super-secret-even-from-himself if he’s off doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot?!

He was a lot more sympathetic when Merlin explained that he’d been born with it, and that his destiny was, literally, tied to Arthur’s. That, mixed with the fact that Arthur tended to get himself into a LOT of trouble, without even realising it most of the time, means Merlin has no choice but to be doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot.

Merlin is currently giving Arthur the silent treatment, not that Arthur seems to notice. The two of them were waiting for Morgause to finish whatever it is she was doing to, apparently, allow Arthur to speak to his mother.

She doesn’t take long, and though Merlin keeps his distrustful gaze on her the whole time, he still can’t quite tell what it is Morgause has done. She looks to them with a blank expression, though her focus is mainly on Arthur as she gestures him forward:

“It’s ready, Prince Arthur. Close your eyes, both of you.”

Arthur frowns briefly but does as told. Merlin raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms, and staring Morgause down; she rolls her eyes and huffs quietly when she realises that he isn’t going to take his eyes off her, but gives in, turning away and performing some sort of simple looking (though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it isn’t simple) ritual.

The Witch lets out a deep breath and steps back, and Merlin’s hard stare is finally drawn away from her when a shower of golden sparks materialises in a cloud in front of The Prince.

Arthur opens his eyes to see Igraine standing there, practically glowing, looking every bit the glorious Queen she once was. She gives him a soft smile, and Arthur can only stare, his mouth moving of it’s own accord:

“Mother?”

Merlin stares on in suspicion as Igraine’s smile grows:

“My son.”

She pulls him forward into a tight hug, and though Arthur had started off forcing himself to be wary, he falls into the hug easily, struggling to hold his tears in. They pull back after far too short of a time, and though Merlin was still distrustful, he wishes she had held Arthur just a little longer.

Merlin’s heart breaks as Arthur goes on to apologise for being born, but his feelings quickly turn to anger as Igraine explains the truth, how his people were being hunted, burned, vilified, all because Uther was too much of a hypocrite to admit his mistakes or listen to reason; but he couldn’t lash out now, this time was for Arthur, not him.

Igraine’s face falls even further, and she grips Arthur’s shoulders tightly:

“But we do not have time to talk of this, I can feel the other side pulling me back, I must be quick. Arthur, my son, you have a brother, and you must find him.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he tenses in place; this had better not be some twisted trick on Morgause’s part to destroy Arthur, because he would destroy her in return if it was. And he would do it in a far messier way. Arthur just looks shocked:

“A brother? How?!”

Igraine smiles mournfully:

“A twin. He was so small when he was born, I thought he wouldn’t make it, but though I can’t see his face, I know he lives, I can feel it. He had hair dark as the night sky, a complete contrast to your golden wisps-”

She lifts a soft, gentle hand, and runs it through Arthur’s hair with a smile:

“-but his eyes, oh his eyes were just as golden as your hair, before they faded to the colour of the sky.”

Arthur gasped but Merlin tensed even further, certain that this must be some sort of trick:

“He was magic?”

Igraine smiles again and nods:

“It’s not common, but not completely unheard of for people to be born magic. Your brother was, and it was beautiful.-”

He smile falls into something more angry, though she’s clearly trying to hide it:

“-Your father... did something. I do not know what; by the time my soul was restful enough to be able to look back upon the world, it was too late, he was gone somewhere I could not see. I know he still lives, your father was too much of a coward to admit his mistakes, but too much of a hypocrite to keep to his convictions and destroy the child, which I can be grateful for. I feared he had been sent far away, but you must find him, restore his heritage.”

Arthur nods vigorously, his eyes wide and desperate, and Merlin finds himself desperate to believe that this spirit is true and genuine:

“What else can you tell me about him? Do you know where he is? What he looks like now?”

Igraine’s face falls into a soft smile again, though she shakes her head mournfully:

“He is powerful, extremely so. I worried he was dead until I suddenly felt him; he appeared in Camelot, around three and a half years ago. His power is vast, I can sense it stretching for miles and miles, though I can not pinpoint the epicentre; he is somewhere within the Kingdom, you must find him.”

Merlin frowns in confusion, stepping forward to interrupt, though he desperately doesn’t want to:

“Did you name him? Your son?”

Igraine looks to him suddenly, as if she weren’t aware they had company, but quickly turns almost her full attention to Merlin with a soft smile:

“You. You looked after my boy, thank you. Thank you for all that you have done. And yes-”

She looks back to Arthur:

“-I named him, though I whispered it with my last breaths, Uther would certainly not have used it, and I do not know if Gaius heard me.”

Arthur responds quietly, his cracking voice heavy with too many emotions to name:

“What is it? What’s my... my brother’s name?”

“Myrddin.”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp, and Arthur, always with at least one half of his brain focused on his manservant, turns to him:

“You know that name?! Merlin, do you know someone in Camelot with that name?”

Merlin just stares at Igraine, his eyes wide and his hands shaking:

“How... how do you think he got out of Camelot? How would Uther have sent him away?”

Igraine’s face is confused, but mostly curious as she takes a step towards him, still with one hand on Arthur’s shoulder:

“Gaius and Balinor possibly, perhaps Nimueh, though I imagine she fled rather quickly. They were Uther’s closest friends before the purge, and they all practised magic, they would have been... sympathetic, tried to help the child. Why? Are Arthur’s questions relevant? Do you know my son??”

Merlin’s eyes flickered between the two of them, but when Arthur says his name again, his voice nothing short of desperate, his gaze fixes on The Prince:

“Arthur, I... I never told you, because I didn’t think it was... relevant, but... Merlin isn’t my real name.”

Arthur recoils, shocked, and utters a dumbfounded “What?!”. Merlin gulps, and looks to Igraine briefly before resuming his fearful, and slightly confused, stare on Arthur:

“When I was young, my magic was still strong, but I had no control over it. I would subconsciously summon animals to my side constantly. Mostly small things, but the occasional stag or bear would wander through the village to find me. But... but what came most often where the birds; the village is essentially in the middle of a forest, and... and there were thousands of merlins. So I got that as a nickname, Merlin, and it just stuck.”

Arthur just shakes his head, caught off guard but mostly just annoyed:

“You heard my mother, Merlin, we don’t have much time, what is this-”

Merlin interrupts him:

“Just listen!! My real name.... it’s Myrddin.-”

Igraine takes in a quiet gasp, mumbling more to herself than anyone else “Gaius heard me.” but Arthur just stares. Merlin holds his gaze, but after a few moments, he looks back to Igraine:

“-My mother... she... she wouldn’t lie to me, nor would Gaius... this... it’s a mistake. It’s... it’s a common name, right?!”

Igraine responds in a hushed tone, though Arthur barely moves, still staring at Merlin as though he had gained a new head:

“Show me some magic, my boy.”

Merlin stutters and shakes his head, laughing incredulously before he notices her pleading face and looks to Arthur, almost for permission. The Prince gulps before nodding, just once, and Merlin lets out a deep breath. He holds his hand out in front of him, palm up, and without even needing to mutter a spell, a single flower grows; a Camelot-red Tulip, it’s petals dipped in gold.

When his eyes fade back to blue, he looks up to see the others’ reactions: Arthur is smiling softly, always eager to see Merlin’s magic, as if he had forgotten the situation at hand, but Igraine... oh, Igraine was staring at him with such wonder, tears slipping down her pale cheeks.

Merlin drops the flower without a second though and shakes his head minutely, but Igraine just nods, allowing the hand on Arthur’s shoulder to slip down to his hand so she could tug him forward, towards Merlin:

“Myrddin, my boy, my son. You came home all on your own.”

Merlin just shakes his head again and steps back:

“No. No this... this isn’t real, this is a trick, or... or something. How do we prove it? How do we know you’re not lying or some trap laid by Morgause?!”

Igraine sighs, but nods, understanding:

“Ask Gaius and your... your mother, and thank her for me, for raising you with so much love. The doorway is closing, I can feel it.-”

Her gaze moves lovingly between then two of them, and when she steps forward once more, she takes Merlin’s hand before he can move away, pulling the two of them into a tight hug:

“-I am so endlessly proud of you both, and I love you, always.”

She fades from the air, and within seconds Arthur’s arms are falling in on themselves, nothing under them to hold their weight and forceful pressure.

The Prince’s head whips towards Morgause, who until that point had been completely forgotten about:

“Bring her back!”

Her stare is fixed on a frozen Merlin, though she slowly looks to Arthur when he takes an intimidating step towards her and goes to open his mouth again:

“I can’t. The doorway closes of it’s own accord, I can’t bring her back again. But that was... unexpected. I apologise, you shouldn’t have had to find out like that.”

Arthur shakes his head angrily at her denial, but quickly refocuses and looks to Merlin, who still hasn’t moved an inch. He puts a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly until the other man looks at him; Arthur isn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but Merlin’s eyes to be filling with tears definitely wasn’t it:

“I... this can’t be real. My mother, Gaius, Kilgharrah, they all would’ve known. Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

Arthur pulls him into a hug, silently vowing to stop Merlin’s suffering as soon as he’s possibly able, that they would discover the truth no matter what. Merlin’s arms just hang limply at his sides, though he does push his face into Arthur’s neck as The prince responds:

“I... I don’t know, Merlin. Maybe they thought it would get in the way of that destiny of yours, maybe they were waiting for my... for The King to pass.-”

He pulls back, but keeps his hands on Merlin’s shoulders:

“-Lets just... get back to Camelot, and we can figure it out. We can go downstairs to talk to Kilgharrah.”

Merlin shakes his head, stepping back and wiping his sleeve over his eyes roughly before walking purposefully towards the horses:

“No, he’s the least likely to be honest, we’ll talk to Gaius. Though if any of this is true... I’m having some bloody harsh words with my... with Hunith.”

Arthur flinches slightly at the anger in Merlin’s voice, but after a quick glance to a slowly retreating Morgause, he follows him to the horses and they start the fast paced journey back to Camelot. The only words exchanged, around an hour in, were Merlin’s quiet, humourless:

“Gwaine’s never going to believe this.”

And Arthur’s responding snort of derisive amusement.

~

They manage to stay out of sight when they arrive back in the city, which is good really. Arthur’s lowly simmering rage had been reaching taller and taller heights with every pound of the horses’ hooves against the hard ground. But before he confronts his father, they need confirmation, in the form of Gaius.

They stalk quietly through the castle, using servant corridors and hidden passages to avoid being seen, but all bets are off when they reach the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius looks up with a quiet gasp when the two men burst in, locking the door behind them. Arthur’s blank stare and Merlin’s barely concealed anger force his shock and relief to morph into confusion:

“Merlin, Prince Arthur, where on Earth have you been? The King has been panicking, sending out patrol after patrol to search for you.”

Arthur’s face remains blank, and when Gaius looks to him for an answer he just moves his gaze to Merlin, allowing him to determine the pace of this much needed conversation. Merlin’s dark gaze is now fixed on the floor, though his jaw and hands are tightly clenched, and his breathing is shaky in his anger. His voice comes out lethally quiet, and Arthur can tell that it’s only a matter of time before he explodes:

“Gaius, what’s my name?”

Gaius just looks slightly taken aback, like he hasn’t quite grasped Merlin’s meaning despite its plainness:

“My boy, whatever are you-”

He’s interrupted when Merlin looks up at him sharply, his eyes blazing and his face turning slightly red:

“It’s a simple question Gaius: What’s. My. Name?-”

Gaius’ eyes flicker to Arthur in confusion, but Merlin breaks from his near frozen stature, moving with a speed that Arthur had never seen in him before to slam his hand on the table:

“No, don’t look at him, look at me. What’s my name, Gaius?!”

Gaius nods, his eyes sad as he gulps before answering quietly:

“Myrddin, but you already knew that.”

Merlin takes a deep breath and nods, his fingers tapping rhythmically, though a tad aggressively, against the table. Arthur goes to step forward to put a calming hand on his shoulder but Merlin shoots him a withering look and he stays back. Merlin’s hard stare returns to the resigned physician:

“And my parents?”

Gaius gulps again but straightens his posture, putting up a confused façade, though it’s easy to see through:

“Hunith is your-”

Merlin slams his hand on the table again, much harder this time, and a voice in the back of Arthur’s head—the one at the forefront was spitting obscenities and planning rather gruesome ways to murder his father—makes a note to check his hand later, a hit like that had likely broken something, though Merlin was clearly too furious and confused and upset to notice:

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

Gaius is taken aback at Merlin’s bitter yell, but he softens again at the tears on his ward’s cheeks; he collapses into a chair on the other side of the table, rubbing his eyes tiredly before looking up at the distraught man:

“Uther and Igraine Pendragon. You are a year older than your mo- than Hunith led you to believe, and you are Arthur’s twin brother.-”

Arthur turns away angrily, vocalising the curses that had been playing on a loop in his mind, and Merlin nods, pushing his injured hand into the table without even realising:

“-I am so sorry, my-”

Merlin shakes his head and holds a hand up to stop him but doesn’t say anything, not pulling away this time when Arthur steps into place beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder, waving the other one aggressively at the elderly physician:

“You had no right, no right to keep this from us. I grew up being taught to hate magic, miserable and alone, and Merlin grew up hating himself, just as miserable and alone, if not more so. You had no right to take us away from each other.-”

Gaius goes to respond, but Arthur stops his excuses before they even make it past his throat:

“-No. There is no excusing this, you and my father took my brother from me, and there will be no forgiving that. I’ve known about Merlin’s magic and our entwined destinies for over a year, you’ve had every opportunity to tell us, but you didn’t. That’s not even mentioning the nature of my... our mother’s death. You are a coward, and in your cowardice you have been cruel; I will not stand for it. Where is my- where is The King?”

Gaius nods slowly, standing on almost wobbling legs before gesturing to the door:

“The King is with Sir Leon trying to figure out where to look next, they’re in the council chamber. You are right, and I am sor-”

Arthur cuts him off with a sharp gesture and a dark look, taking Merlin’s uninjured wrist and pulling him towards the door. The servant (Prince?) follows easily, unable to meet Gaius’ gaze and allowing Arthur to drag him briskly through the corridors towards the council chamber.

By the time they reach the chamber, Merlin has broken out of his stupor, wiped his tears, and pulled his wrist from Arthur’s grip, instead walking alongside him and using just as much force when they both push the doors open and stride in.

Uther and Leon both look up rapidly, startled at the sudden intrusion, but whilst Leon looks relieved and sends the two of them a small smile, Uther looks angry:

“Arthur. Where have you been? I have had search parties out looking for you. Arthur?”

Arthur doesn’t answer for a few moments, but a glance at Merlin by his side gives him the confidence boost he needs and he straightens his back, draws his sword, and stares The King right in the eyes:

“I know what you did to my mother, and I know what you... what you took from me.”

Uther stands tall, glancing to Leon briefly as he announces:

“Leave us. No one is to enter.”

Leon looks between the three other men, but doesn’t make it to his second step towards the door before Arthur has his sword pointed at his chest, though The Prince’s gaze stays on his father. Leon knows it’s less of a genuine threat and more of a way of emphasising his words, but that doesn’t stop him from taking a slight, wary step back:

“No, Sir Leon, you will stay.”

Leon glances nervously to the red-faced King, but doesn’t move. Uther looks furious at Arthur’s denial of his orders, but The Prince pays him no mind, finally turning to look at Leon with a slightly softer look in his eyes:

“Sir Leon, do you bear witness?”

Leon frowns slightly, looking between Arthur, Uther, and Merlin once again, frown deepening as he spies the unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes and the purple bruise forming over one of his hands. He finally looks back to Arthur, moving to stand to attention with one hand held over his heart and the other resting on the hilt of his sword:

“My Lord Prince Arthur Pendragon, I, Sir Leon, bear witness.”

Uther just splutters angrily, but Leon pointedly keeps his gaze on Arthur until The Prince nods at him and is the first to look away. Merlin had stayed silent the entire time, but visibly relaxes when Leon swears to stay, and that just makes the knight even more curious; this seems to be just as much about Merlin as it did Arthur’s parents.

The Prince moves his gaze—and his sword—to be pointed at The King once more, and he takes a deep breath before forcing the words from his mouth:

“You used magic, against my mother’s will, so that you could conceive. Is this true?”

Uther huffs angrily, gaze dashing to the other two men before it settles on Arthur again:

“This is preposterous, Morgause has lied to you.”

Leon is practically holding his breath at the side of the room; he can clearly tell that Arthur is moments away from striking his own father down, but does he interfere? Does he let it happen? And he still has no clue what’s bothering Merlin so much, other than the obvious pain in his hand.

Arthur takes slow steps towards Uther, inching the blade closer and closer to his throat:

“You are the one that’s lying. You started a genocide because you insisted on blaming magic for your own mistakes, and that’s not even the worst thing you did.-”

Arthur lets out an incredulous laugh, and Uther takes a step back as Leon tenses and Merlin stays blank:

“-I had a brother, a twin born with magic. You were too much of a coward to admit your mistakes but too much of a hypocrite to stick to your convictions, so you sent him away instead of killing him.-”

Uther goes pale, taking another stumbled step back as Leon’s eyes go wide, his gaze jumping to Merlin with a sudden, dreaded clarity.

(Perhaps Leon had picked up on Merlin’s magic a few months ago, and perhaps he had come to the conclusion that the younger man was the best protector Arthur could have.)

“-Do you even know his name? Mother said you would likely refuse to use it, but do you even know what it is?!”

Uther quickly regains his anger, his fury snapping into place as he gestures threateningly and thunders:

“It was an abomination! A creature of magic that destroyed your mother and almost tainted you! I should have slaughtered it where it lay-”

Merlin takes in a sudden breath at his words and Leon clenches his jaw; itching to comfort the younger man, but knowing that he wouldn’t exactly be welcomed right now. He’s meant to be here as an impartial third party.

Arthur throws his gauntlet down before Uther can finish his aggressive assertion, and Merlin gulps, moving properly for the first time since he’d entered the room. He grabs Arthur’s arm and pulls him back slightly:

“Arthur you can’t, he’s your... he’s The King.”

Arthur glances to him:

“I don’t care, he took you from me, he had no right.-”

He looks back to Uther, who is now staring at Merlin with a shocked venom. No one notices the way Leon quietly draws his sword; impartial his arse, he’d protect Arthur and Merlin to his dying breath:

“-You are the abomination, and you will pay for your crimes. Perhaps you should’ve sent Myrddin, that’s his name by the way, further afield, perhaps I’d have been more inclined to keep you alive until I found him. Pick it up.”

Uther’s gaze doesn’t move from Merlin as his face grows redder and redder. He doesn’t look down to the gauntlet, nor does he look at Arthur, nor does he notice Leon creeping closer:

“You. You foul, hellish, beast!”

Without another second’s of hesitation, he lunges forward and draws his sword all in one move. Arthur reacts too slowly, not expecting The King to attack Merlin instead of him, and Uther pushes him out of the way, swinging the sword down harshly toward Merlin’s chest before Arthur can block him. Merlin is too shocked and angry and scared and upset to even think of using his magic, so just stumbles back helplessly, falling and landing harshly on his already broken hand, yelping slightly.

Before anyone can even blink, Leon is there, stood over Merlin with blazing eyes and his sword raised. He parries the King easily, and by the time Uther has processed one of his own knights turning against him, Merlin has scrambled back, injured arm held to his chest, and Arthur has moved to stand at Leon’s side, sword raised.

Uther can only stare in furious bewilderment, but it doesn’t take him long to concede that he has been outmatched. He calls for the guards, though once they’ve spilled into the room, six in total, they stutter to a confused stop when they see The Prince and The First Knight seemingly defending a servant (a well-loved, well-known servant), from The King.

Arthur, without looking away from Uther, speaks harshly, his voice controlled and forceful and, frankly, Kingly:

“Arrest The King and escort him to his rooms. Remove all weapons and bar the windows and doors, I want him under constant guard.”

Uther screeches angrily, both at Arthur’s words and the fact that the guards make no moves to detain The Prince and the knight, like he clearly wants. Before he can actually say anything, Arthur speaks again, his voice even louder than before, first to the guards:

“NOW!-”

And then back to Uther:

“-You will either be arrested for your crimes, both against our family name and humanity as a whole, or I will kill you where you stand.”

Uther tries his best to stare Arthur down, but there really is no competing with the fire in his eyes, and it only takes one short nod from Leon for the guards to step forward and confiscate The King’s sword before they pull his arms around his back and push him towards the door. He digs his heels in and begins screeching again, though they can only make out the odd word, it’s mostly just “BETRAYAL!” and “SORCERY!” and “HOW DARE YOU!”. Arthur pulls Merlin to his feet gently, frowning at his purple wrist and knuckles before sighing and rolling his eyes, nodding to Uther and muttering, just loud enough for Merlin and Leon to hear:

“I don’t suppose you could do something about that, could you?”

Merlin looks shocked, but huffs out a gentle laugh when Arthur just raises his eyebrow in question. He looks to Uther just as the guards struggle to open the door, muttering a quiet spell under his breath, his eyes flashing golden. Leon takes in a slow breath at the obvious display of sorcery; he’d been constantly on edge since he discovered Merlin’s talent, desperately fearful that someone would find out. Thankfully, the guards are entirely focused on the task at hand.

Uther quickly goes quiet, his head drooping, and Arthur grimaces as the guards struggle to hold his sudden dead weight. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing aloud when they turn to him with questioning looks; he just nods and gestures regally for them to keep going.

Soon, the room is quiet again, only the three men remaining. Leon looks between them apprehensively but Arthur just takes a fortifying breath before focusing his attention on Merlin’s arm, holding it gently in front of him and frowning worriedly:

“I’m guessing you haven’t gotten any better at healing magic since the arrow incident?”

Merlin scoffs and rolls his eyes:

“That wasn’t my fault, you’re the one that yanked it out of my shoulder and left the damn head in. And for your information, yes actually, I’ve been practicing. But I really think we have more important things to deal with at the moment, like the fact that the council is going to freak out when they find out you had The King arrested.”

Arthur shakes his head, giving Merlin a firm look:

“Merls, I just found out that you’re my twin brother, you are the important thing right now. Heal your hand, I don’t care how long it takes. Leon will take care of the council until we get there.”

He looks pointedly to Leon, and the knight nods, clearing his throat with a confused frown as he replies:

“What... uh... what would you like me to tell them, My Lord? Before your arrival? And where would you like them?”

Arthur smiles, grateful that Leon knows to take cues from him, knows what to focus on, knows that he is being trusted:

“Take them to the Throne Room. Tell them that Uther has been forcibly removed from the throne, that I have discovered the existence of my magical twin brother, whom I intend to have announced as Crown Prince within the week, and that I plan to legalise magic.”

Merlin, already pale and shaky, flinches, starting up with a “But I don’t want-” but Arthur cuts him off with a harsh, though fond glare, looking back to Leon to see the knight’s face shocked and pale. He purses his lips, before humming thoughtfully and speaking again:

“Actually... that probably wouldn’t be for the best. Just inform them that it’s an emergency, reassure them we haven’t started a war or anything, and tell them I’ll be arriving shortly.”

Leon visibly relaxes and nods, giving Merlin a soft smile and ruffling his hair quickly before striding from the room. Merlin huffs at the affection, but Arthur can tell he’s secretly pleased and copies Leon’s fond smile. Merlin looks to him confusedly:

“Why will the council have to wait? It’ll only take a few moments to heal myself.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, nodding at Merlin’s hand pointedly and crossing his arms as if he were expecting failure. Merlin just rolls his eyes before looking down to his injury and muttering a few words, grimacing as his knuckles realign, and the bruise recedes. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the bones and deeper muscle tears have obviously repaired themselves, and Merlin looks very proud of himself as he looks back to Arthur:

“That’s the best I can be bothered to manage-”

Arthur huffs disapprovingly but knows he isn’t going to get any better than that:

“-so why are the council waiting?”

Arthur sighs, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and leading him to the door:

“Well, you look one stiff breeze away from keeling over, and I imagine you’ll want to speak to Gwaine?”

Merlin looks to him suspiciously, but allows Arthur to lead him through the castle towards where Gwaine was almost certainly pacing worriedly in his rooms:

“I thought you didn’t approve of Gwaine?”

Arthur grins wolfishly:

“Oh, I don’t, especially now that I know that you’re a Prince, and my brother, but it’s my duty as the oldest to threaten him more than I already have.”

Merlin stops suddenly in the corridor and pulls Arthur back:

“Hang on a minute you prat, first off, when have you ever threatened Gwaine? And second, who said you’re the oldest?”

Arthur’s smile just grows and he grabs Merlin’s uninjured wrist to start pulling him down the corridor again:

“Literally the day I found out he was attempting to court you, which was about a month before you figured it out by the way,-”

Merlin grumbles, but doesn’t argue:

“-and I’m the oldest because I said so, and mother said naming you was... was one of the last things she did, so you obviously came out second, idiot.”

Merlin rolls his eyes yet again, but doesn’t say anything as they come to a stop outside of Gwaine’s room. He takes a deep breath, and Arthur moves his hand up to his shoulder again, giving him a small smile and a supportive nod. 

The Warlock knocks on the door, and Gwaine opens immediately. The knight relaxes significantly when he sees that it’s the two of them back from God knows where, though he tenses again as his eyes run over them; he takes note of Merlin’s red eyes, injured wrist, and generally shaky demeanour. He also quickly catches on to the protective way Arthur is standing behind him, and the way The Prince’s loose hand shakes slightly with left over adrenaline.

Despite himself, Merlin relaxes and smiles when he sees Gwaine; with everything that had been going on he hadn’t really had a chance to think about how much he missed him, about how much he needed his support.

Gwaine pulls them into the room quickly, shutting the door behind him and turning around to see Merlin looking at him sheepishly, and Arthur staring at him with a predatory smile:

“What happened? Where have you been? Is everything ok?!”

~

End of Part 1!!

Hope y’all enjoyed this!! I probably could’ve fitted more in, but I figured this was a good point to stop. Part 2 and 3 are out (link @ top), part 4 won’t be too long!!

Drop comments and things lads, I love y’all!!

[citrusdarling7]

Kinktober Day 5- Corruption Kink with The Darkling

summary- the leader of Ravka’s Second Army takes a special interest in his innocent new solider, you

cw- kinda manipulative behavior, loss of virginity, use of “y/n” once, use of the word “sir”, and the Darkling himself is a warning lmfao

🗡—————————————————————🗡

Shadows danced across the palace walls in an unnatural rhythm. All of the curtains were drawn and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional clunk of boots. Oprichniki guards were surely patrolling the halls, but they were the least of your worries.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why the Darkling had requested your company tonight. You had been told by a maid that he needed the help of a Corporalki to test some sort of new Fabrikator device. But you had only been in the Little Palace for a mere month, and surely someone with more experience would be of more use to him. Nonetheless, you stood waiting outside of his quarters at exactly midnight, just as you had been requested to do.

Suddenly, the long door slid open, creaking on its hinges. The Darkling stood tall in his dark kefta as a satisfied smile graced his face. You inclined your head slightly to show your respect for the general.

“Y/n. You look lovely, as always. Come in and join me.” He stepped to the side, allowing you room to pass. As you entered the dark quarters, you watched him wave away two nearby Oprichniki.

This was your first time visiting the Darkling’s private rooms, and you were more than impressed. A round table in the war room depicted all of Ravka, along with its neighbouring countries. A variety of little figurines had been placed over certain cities and trade routes. Beside it, there was a smaller table that sat next to a bursting bookshelf. The country’s emblem had been stitched to a large banner which hung from what you assumed to be a window.

“The new kefta suits you. It was a shame that the old one was wrecked beyond repair.” He reached for your sleeve, then stopped for a visual confirmation of consent. Proud to be wearing your Grisha colors, you held your left arm out to him. The Darkling admired the material between his fingers, most likely impressed with the work of one of his loyal Fabrikators.

“Thank you, Sir. Grisha technology is still so new to me, yet incredibly intriguing. Where is the new device I am meant to test?” You had glanced around the room, but seen nothing that looked as if it needed a Corporalki to operate it.

“Ah, about that. Forgive me, but I may have lied a bit to get you here,” he told you with narrowed eyes. You took a step closer, interested in what the general had to say. “The matters I wish to discuss with you tonight are rather confidential.”

Ohh. This was a matter of war and politics. Well, now you understood why he had sent those two guards away. Before you realized your abilities, your studies in Balakirev had been focused on international relations. It made sense that he would come to you.

“Is there a particular issue you wish to seek my counsel on?” The Darkling closed the gap between you, unknowingly pressing your back against the edge of the circular table.

“You’re too innocent for your own good, especially considering your status as a Heartrender,” he laughed, his hand brushing your hair behind your ears. Unsure of how to respond to his sudden, you meekly smiled up at him.

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that I needed to make you mine.” Cold fingers traced your jawline as he spoke.

“I am yours. I answer to my general, as any good soldier would,” you told him. You had concluded that this was a test of your loyalty, which made sense, seeing as you were still a fairly new recruit to the Second Army. “I would slit my throat before I join forces with the Shu Han or the witch-hunting Fjerdans.” The Darkling let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head.

“Although I admire your undying loyalty to Ravka, that is not what I meant. Saints, you truly are clueless.” You frowned, a bit angry that he would say such a thing. Although the mastery of your Heartrender abilities was still coming along, you considered yourself to be decently intelligent. “Do not fret, pretty girl. I did not summon you here to reprimand you. Your training is coming along wonderfully,” he assured you.

“Then Sir, why am I here?” He chose to non-verbally answer your question by grabbing your face and pulling you in for a rather passionate kiss.

You would never admit it to any of your fellow Grisha, but you had never been kissed before. In that moment, it was everything that you had ever imagined. The Darkling gripped the back of your head with both of his hands as his lips worked against yours, sending waves of euphoria down your spine. His tongue invaded your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

When you finally forced yourself to push him away out of a need for breath, you realized how wrong this was. A reflective surface nearby revealed that your lips were flushed red and your hair was completely askew. Immediately, you headed for the door.

“Wait a moment,” the Darkling requested. His hands snaked around your waist from behind, successfully trapping you in his grip. “I apologize for being so forward with you. But Saints, you have ignored all of my previous advances! I simply wanted to confirm that you were interested.”

“Advances,” you spoke in a shaky breath. “Sir, what advances?”

“Was it not obvious? The flowers delivered to your room, the introduction to the royal family, the new kefta. Why else would I have been so welcoming to a Heartrender who came to my army nearly ten years late, with absolutely no battle skills whatsoever, if not for my clear desire?”

“I thought you saw potential in me,” you admitted. He laughed again, although this time it upset you.

“You are quite beautiful, but not of much use to me or the Second Army. A Heartrender who refuses to kill is like a dog that doesn’t bark.” Your face blossomed with shame at his reminder. He was right; you had made it clear to all of your instructors that you would not take a life. “Do not fret, pretty girl. I would reckon that all you need is a bit of corruption. Some darkness put into you.” The Darkling’s lips met the crook between your collarbone and neck. He nipped at your skin while humming quietly to himself.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously.

“Let me ruin you; wreck that glowing innocence of yours. I will show you pleasure beyond what you have ever imagined,” he propositioned as one of his hands started to fumble with the fastenings of your kefta. His hot mouth against your skin made it so that the pit of your stomach felt as if it was on fire. “If you ask nicely, I might even be gentle.”

Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, you shrugged your kefta off your shoulders and turned to face the man. Dark eyes met yours as you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. You silently prayed that the Saints would forgive you for the mistake you were currently making.

This time around, the kiss quickly escalated. Strong arms lifted and positioned you on the table, scattering about dozens of figurines and notes. The Darkling hastily removed his own kefta while you discarded your boots and woolen stockings. Underneath your red Grisha coat was a simple black dress.

“My color looks wonderful on you,” he praised you as his hands slid under your dress. You whimpered in surprise and anticipation as two of his fingers gripped the waistband of your undergarments and pulled them down. He had to manually bend your knees to get the garment completely off of you, seeing as your body was too overwhelmed to do much.

“My pretty girl, has a man ever touched you before?” The Darkling’s fingers grazed against your bare core while he awaited your response.

“N-Never like that, Sir,” you told him, attempting to hang your head to shield your reddening face. He used his free hand to grab your chin and yank it upwards.

“Good. I want you all to myself.” His digits trailed gently across your cunt, collecting your arousal with every swipe. “So wet for me,” he hummed in approval. Two fingers penetrated you suddenly, eliciting your body to lean forward into his. Once again, your lips met his in a fiery kiss.

As his fingers continuously thrusted into your sensitive cunt, it became harder and harder for you to concentrate on the kiss. Small moans left your mouth every few seconds as the pleasure continued to grow.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed in between heavy pants. Your head fell between the crook of his neck as the Darkling added another finger, which increased the sensations you were feeling by ten-fold.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Unable to form a coherent response, you opted to nod your head and whimper. The general’s fingers left you, leaving your cunt aching and clenching over nothing. “I think you’re ready for the real thing.”

Before you could process anything that had just happened, you were lying on black bed sheets in a very dark room as the Darkling attacked your neck with his lips. His bare cock was hard against your thigh. You were so overwhelmed by everything happening that you had yet to notice anything abnormal in his sleeping chambers.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded suddenly. You obeyed, although hesitantly. “It’s going to hurt at first. Dig your nails into my palm if you must.”

Without warning, he lined himself up to your entrance and began to slowly stretch your walls. You bit against your lip and clamped your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the sharp pain. The Darkling pressed his forehead against yours as he let out a low groan.

“Saints, you’re fucking tight. You take me so well.” You had the sudden urge to claw at his back, which you acted on. As he bottomed out inside of you, your fingernails drew blood from his skin.

At least, they should have. When you retracted your hands, you were surprised to find no trace of blood. Perhaps your Grisha abilities had finally shown up in a most unexpected way. The Darkling came to a similar realization.

“My pretty girl, I am going to have so much fun with you.”

🗡—————————————————————🗡

(tagging some of you hotties even tho idk if you’re a grishaverse fan) (if you’re tired of getting tagged in my kinktober stuff lmk!)

@brriley @b-aobao @ravenriddlewrites @littlemulattokitten

[spikeinthepunch]

if you told me a few years back i was gonna revive @single-malt-scotch and not drop it in a week and enjoy it genuinely i would have never imagined it. as much as i consume "cringe" content and enjoy things like hot wheels or barbie unironically, there has been a strangely complicated relationship between me and mcyt- for those who have only followed this blog (and even the one i had before this) youd have no idea i was incredibly involved with and enjoyed the old mcyt smp, mindcrack. after my early fandoms in 2010-2012 mindcrack was my thing, for years (the url of that side blog was what i used to have).

no matter how much i try to throw out the disclaimer "if you remember my mcyt days understand i was a teen and im not a weirdo about these people", the reason i even detached further and further over time wasn't purely that i fell out of it (i did, the server started to dwindle) but the.... shame in never wanting to look back at those days came from the automatic association people gained about mcyt over time, and tumblr's rampant witch hunting culture over calling people out for liking "problematic things".

should be said im talking about this shame and callout culture in the context of 2015 tumblr- to now. i was 16 and that stuff was ingrained in my head. it ruined my consumption and joy for media for years. i liked a lot of stuff without problem but i liked them all with intense, fear filled awareness to not unknowingly be ~bad~ but just touching something people could deem problematic. the moment i registered that my behavior as a 13 year old was "bad" bc i wrote mcyt fanfics was the moment i closed off all of that past and decided it was bad, and i was bad, and i could never ever look at it the same way again.

even as i stayed subbed to some of those people out of not wanting to let go of subs i made almost ten years ago- there was no way i was every going back i thought. i looked at mcyt fandom stuff and cringed, and that increased when the distaste of dreamsmp arose-- which ever valid to dislike dream, the wave of cringe culture over dreamsmp and the general concept of mc smps only furthered my shame in the last years. i was told even more in the present now, that mcyt fandom is Bad because its all weird people shipping real people and its strange and youre obviously bad for associating in any form at all. nuance in enjoying gamers on youtube was suddenly lost. even in that period of dsmp getting popular, i couldnt imagine myself getting to this point again, it really was so engrained in me to never consider mcyt a point of joy for myself, when my inability to do so was always tied to shame.

it sounds silly-- but applying this to a broader range of interests? it doesnt matter if im talking about mcyt or something else. it was so hard for me to decide in my head that there was nothing morally egregious about watching people play fucking minecraft on youtube. even if i draw fan art. even if i indulge in the characters they play in a way that isnt strange or crossing their personal boundaries. im not sure what happened to make people decide "mcyt" was a catch all for the Worst of the bad examples for people within such a large community but the moment that happened it made it so hard to feel like i was allowed to like this ever again. i made my existing sideblog in the early summer and i didnt say anything about it. i had it for months and i said nothing. i was so afraid of considering i might have fun, and find joy in this, i wanted to make sure if i destroyed it, it wasnt tied to here and there were no strings attached.

i slid away to enjoy this in peace. and im glad i did in the sense i took away any stressors of just posting straight to my main with little time to decide my feelings. but through the last months i have on and off added it to my pinned post. added it because fuck it, took it down because anxiety. back up, i have nothing to lose.... back down because i saw some post that made me feel bad again.

i am tired of it. the effect of early tumblr culture stress hangs over me even still and it fucking sucks. ive sat here drawing stuff for months on this sideblog unable to tie it to my name for reasons that dont even make sense, out of fear of a reaction from people id never regard or listen to in the first place. that being said im keeping that blog, its on my pinned, im queueing the art to post here whenever i share it, and taking all my old DA art out of storage was a big one to covercome as it uplocked all my old mcyt art to the public again even stuff i felt the most shame for-- by no means was this fandom what it was when i enjoyed it with 30 other people on tumblr 10 years ago... but im finding joy in this again, and my heart swells for every old mutual i see again and im not denying myself that anymore.

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

May I request Nuada with a human reader that is a new witch. Something fluffy maybe?

Again, no access to my laptop yet, but I will try my best to do the request through my phone, and again I am so sorry for the errors!

I was planning for this to be simple and fluffy story but my imagination went a but wild but it still has many fluffs!! Please enjoy!!

You closed as you held your hand forward to the fire bowl in front of you, clearing your senses you tried to connect with it but was unable to.

"Concentrate, (Y/n)." Said your teacher, and you tried but still felt no connection to the element. "Most witches can manipulate fire, you are just not trying enough."

Her words made you angry, which made your determination to proof her wrong rise. You took a few steps forward, believing that maybe the problem is with the distance, but you quickly stopped and pulled away when you got too close and almost burned your hands. Your teacher let out a disappointed sigh as you checked your hand for any injury.

"What am I going to do with you?" She said getting your attention. "You can't manipulate objects, or teleport, or control a simple human mind, and now not even control fire!"

You said nothing only held your hand in front of you and kept your head down in shame.

"You are a good Brewer, I admit that." She said. "But any other witch can be a Brewer, even humans even they had the ingredients!"

"I'm sorry... " was all you could say.

"Saying sorry without accomplishing anything doesn't make you any useful to the King!"

"What is the meaning of this?"

A familiar boming voice called making both you and your teacher tense as you turned to the double doors. Right there stood Prince nuada, his signature frown showed on his face and he made his way towards the two of you.

"Your royal highness!" Exclaimed your teacher who quickly bowed and you followed her action. You kept your head down until you saw his shoes standing in front of you.

"Raise your head." He ordered and you did. His golden eyes met yours fir a brief moment before looking to your teacher.

"What honor do we have that his highness decided to visit us?" Your teacher said with a smile, you'd have believed she was in a good mood if she didn't just yell at you a few moments ago.

"I came to see the progress of your students, but only could hear yelling from the end of the hall." He said in a very displeased manner making your teacher tense.

A few months ago the Elf King had extended a hand to the witches, asking for thier aid against the human and offering protection and ressources as an exchange. Your Cover was one of the few who agreed to stand by the King. However, unlike your sisters you weren't as talented as them, they could conjure spells to fight and defend against humans but you could do none of that. So your teacher had decided to use the King's ressources as a chance to give you better education, hoping your power would awake, but it didn't.

"My deepest apology your highness." She said bowing again. "It's just one of my student is being... Difficult."

"Difficult?" He repeated in question. "Elaborate."

She then went onto this rant of how you can't do anything, how you can't manifest one spell that could benefit the King or your self at that matter. The more she talked the more you wanted to dig a hole into the ground and hide yourself in it, you clenched your dress, fighting back tears of frustration. You were doing your best, and she doesn't even giving credit for that as she continued saying your were lazy. It only took for the Prince to lift his hand up for the elder witch to be silenced.

"I will be dealing with the young lady personally." He said but you kept your head down, missing how troubled your teacher looked.

"that's... That's very generous of you your highness, but I can't imagine letting you-"

"You said that this young witch is wasting resources, time, and refusing to learn. " he cut her off. "So I need to personal make her understand the wrongs of her actions."

It was a short while until your teacher finally walked away to leave the room. The Prince stood right in front of you but said and did nothing until both of you heard the double doors shut. It was silence between you two, only the cracking of wood in the fire behind you could be heard. Nuada reached forward, placed his hand under you chin and gently lifted your head so your sad eyes could meet his affectionate ones.

"My little witch, why do you look so sad?" He asked concerned. You pulled away from his hand.

"My teacher is right I can't do even one simple spell." You said. "But I swear it's not because I'm lazy!"

"I know my dear." He assured, and even though you are grateful to know that he was at your side, it still didn't make you feel any better.

You and Nuada had started this secret friendship of yours when he found you wondering around the royal library, which later you found out it was forbidden for anyone else but the royal family to enter, that day to apologized none stop, which amused the Prince. After that he kept finding you, always saying that he wants to make sure you won't be going to any forbidden areas, and from that some kind of a friendship blossomed between you two. But you wanted to keep it a secret, because if anyone found out of the kind of treatment he is giving you they'd think he is picking favorites.

"Let's go to the garden." He said pulling you out of your thoughts.

"But we can't be seen in public together. " you said. "Everyone would get ideas."

"What ideas?" He asked raising a brow.

"That there is something between us." You answered with a shrug.

"And what is wrong with that?"

his question made look up to him with confusion, but you couldn't see the look he had for he was already making his way to the double doors, obviously not taking a "No" for an answer and with a tired sigh you followed. As expected your teacher was right outside waiting, when she asked nuada simply answered that he needs to show you just how much they are giving hoping it would motivate you to work hard, which was an obvious lie but your teacher seems to believe him as she continued to thank him for his "merciful" choice of a lesson for you. You just repressed rolling your eyes as you followed nuada to the royal Garden.

When you first arrived to the Bethmoora clan palace, King Balor has welcomed you, as well as other covens with open arms and provided a tour in the palace so you may know where to go and where was what, and so far, Your favorite area was the garden. You walked side by side with Nuada in silence, he had his hands behind his back, his posture straight and head held high like a true Prince, while you wondered around at almost every touching it and smiling them, except for those, which were poisonous but admured from afar.

"You truly love nature don't you, little witch." Said Nuada breaking the silence.

"I do very much so." You confirmed. "I used to go on walks in the woods when I was younger, just find a beautiful tree with plenty of shade to set beneath and read... "

You paused as your smile slowly turned into a frown.

"It all changed when humans started hunting us down." You sighed. "We had to hide away, which means no going outside, I was very depressed being stuck in for walls with nothing else to do but practice, practice practice!"

Your last outburst made nuada chuckle.

"Glad to know my pain amuses you." You said with a pout.

"Never, my dear." He said with a smile. "You can simply be too adorable I can't help it."

His statement made you blush and your turned your head away pretending to inspect the flowers below. After knowing the Prince for a few weeks he started saying these complements that left you beaming red, you just assumed it was his nature to do so, but whenever he was with other people he'd be the scary intimidating Prince who's no-one dared to address him in less than his given title, but when the both of you alone, he insist on you calling him by his name.

"(Y/n), I have a question for you." He said having your full attention.

"Yes?" Whenever he called you by your name it's serious.

"Witches can have different powers an abilities, correct?"

"Yes, every Witches Coven is different than the other, for example I heard of those who can use dolls, which is strange yet intriguing."

"And you cannot do the same things your coven does, am I Correct?" He asked again.

"Yes... " Your shoulders slumped and as your brows furrowed in a sad manner.

"Then have you ever considered that maybe you do not share the same abilities as your sisters?" He finally asked and you gave him a look of bewilderment.

"What are you trying to say?"

"What I am trying to same my dear little witch, is that you cannot do the things your sister can do easily... " He said and you almost gonna retort angrily but he continued. "Because you do not carry the same ability as them."

"Are you saying that I carry different abilities?" You asked looking down at your hands.

Nuada started to lead you to another part of the garden a more private part near the palace walls where vines stretched high against the wall. And you would have questioned the location if you weren't already questioning yourself.

"Set down." Said nuada breaking out of your train of thoughts.

"Where are we?" You asked looking around confused as nuada lead you to set in a clear spot with no plants just grass.

"This is my secret place." He answered. " no-one knows of it except Nuala."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"To do this."

He said before pinning you against the wall. Your eyes were widened in shock, your (E/c) eyes met his golden once, he started to slowly lean down, and move brought his mouth closer to your ear.

"May I steal a kiss?" He asked almost timidly,and a blush crossed your face at the request.

You would be lying if you said you didn't dream about your relationship with Nuada to grow more of that of a friendship,but to happen so suddenly and finding out he to desired it, in such private place like this made your heart beat fast. You lowered your head and gave a timid nod giving your consent. The Prince delighted,he lifted your head up and chuckled probably by how tight you kept your eyes closed, but that didn't stop him as he leaned down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss wasn't agressive or passionate, it was a simple chaste kiss that still made you feel as if your spirit has flown to the heavens and came back as he slowly pulled away. that was your first kis but it left you in such daze that you didn't hear what Nuada said.

"huh?.. What?" You asked quickly looking uo to him. He smirked at your reaction.

"I'm happy to see what kind of effect does my touch have on you.. "He said making you want to look away but he quickly stopped you and made you look above you. "However, you too seem to have a special touch of your own."

He was correct, because the simple green vine that was behind you has many white flowers blooming on it and you were speechless because they weren't there before. You pulled away to have a better look and the flowers seems to go as much as the vines, even the vines seem to have taken even larger parts of the palace.

"I... I did that?" You asked in wonder.

"You did, my little witch." He said with pride as he wrapoed his arms around you and hugged your from behind. "Yes you did my darling (Y/n)."

---

Nuada was waiting at the end of the hall where your teacher's chamber were, he could have waited right outside but he didn't want to draw attention. He heard the doors open and you bowing one last time to your teacher before closing the door and leaving. You had entered empty handed but got out with many different books in your arma that you struggled to lift. Nuada hurried by your side to carry them from you.

"What did she say?" He asked, and you gave him a big excited smile that brought his own.

"You are looking at the very first green witch in our coven!" You almost screamed.

"A green witch?" Nuada asked confused.

"Yes, I can't manipulate or create fire like my sisters." You started to explain. "But I can and will be able to manipulate plants, rocks, animals, the earth and weather!"

"And these books will help you?" He asked looking down at the books that talked about different plants, herba and history of green witches.

"Yes, and I can't wait to read them all." You gave a shy smile to nuada. "Thank you for helping me realize my true powers."

"Why are you thanking me?" He asked genuinely confused.

"You knew in was a green witch." You said. "You told me how I can be different kind of witch than my sisters and took me to... That place."

You blushed at the memory of that kiss.

"You are mistaken my dear, for I didn't know you were a witch of nature." He confessed.

"But... The kiss... " you trailed off.

"I kissed you because I wanted to do so for a long time now." He said with a mischievous grin. "And judging by the way you reacted you wanted the same thing."

Your face was pure red as you snatched the rest of the books from his hands and ran away to your room, being embarrassed made you forget how heavy the books were and hearing Nuada's amused laugh from behind didn't make it better, but for some reason you couldn't help the smile on your face for you just found out that Nuada returned your feelings.

---

Again sorry for any errors, or if it's too long and I hope you enjoyed it!

[zafirosreverie]

Creatures of the night (Agatha x Vampire!Reader)

a/n: for anon. Hope you like it!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You watched as the fire consumed the remains of what was once a small village. You didn’t like to see the result of your anger, or hear the desperate cries of people, but it was your nature, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t do anything about it.

At least this time you managed to hold back until the families with young children had escaped.

"They are not to blame for being born near the beast" you thought sadly.

But you were done. After hundreds of years you had finally avenged the last member of your family, no more hunting or killing other than food. Although, maybe it was already a little late. Your name was already whispered in fear.

You took one last look at the mess, feeling as devastated as the village itself, before it disappeared into the night. A sinister shadow that would remain in the hearts of the survivors, as feared as the dark castle in which you lived.

___________________

Agatha gasped, trying to avoid the low branches of the trees. It would be easier if she could fly, but it was too risky. She internally cursed herself for not acting faster. She shouldn't have come back for her mother's books.

She must have known that Evanora had one last trick up her sleeve and that she with her last strength would alert the nearby covens. Now, the brunette was being hunted by the same breed as her.

"I need to rest" she thought.

She could feel their steps on her heels. It wouldn't be long before they were upon her and she knew that the fate that awaited her would be far worse than death. Even with all her failings as a mother, Evanora was appreciated in various covens, she being friends with other leaders, who now wanted Agatha to pay for murdering her. That and there was still the whole black magic thing.

"If only they tried to understand" she sighed.

She needed shelter and soon. And as if fate took pity on her for once in her life, the witch could glimpse a huge castle in the distance. She could fly there. It looked old and creepy, probably abandoned. It was worth the risk.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she knew she had to make a decision right now. With the last vestiges of power she had left, she propelled herself forward. Whatever she might find in the castle, it would have to be better than being hunted by other witches and warlocks...right? 

__________________

You frowned when you felt a strange magic in your domain. You hated your immortal status, if only because it terrified you perhaps more than humans, but you had to admit that it had its advantages, such as amplified senses.

A woman. You could smell the blood running through her veins, and magic too. A witch? Possibly. But there was something else there. Something besides the obvious tiredness and exhaustion. You could smell the fear. She was scared, but...not of you?

At least not yet.

____________________

Agatha tried to catch her breath as she walked with one hand pressed against the cold stone. She had managed to get there, but now she couldn't find a way to get inside. As if the entire building was sealed.

She really didn't want to think about the fact that no one had followed her. It was almost as if they knew that whatever was here, it would be worse than any punishment they could give her. Had she made a mistake?

When she sensed a presence in the shadows behind her, she wondered if, perhaps, the castle was sealed not so that no one could enter, but so that someone or something didn’t come out.

"You're imagining things" she told herself "It's the exhaustion. You just have to find a corner protected from the rain and the wind to get some sleep and tomorrow you'll think clearly."

"Why settle for a corner, my lady?" suddenly said a voice behind her.

The witch turned around, trying to conjure a ball of energy to defend herself, but she couldn't. Shit. It seemed like she had underestimated her tiredness. But she wasn't going to show weakness.

"Show yourself" she ordered.

You slowly stepped out of the shadows, impressed by the apparent courage this woman possessed. She was very scared, you could smell it, but she was not willing to show it. Impressive.

Agatha gasped when she saw your red eyes and elongated fangs. Now she knew why they hadn't followed her. Because the beast that lived here was more dangerous than any spell they could torture her with.

"Do you like what you see, ma'am?"

"Get away from me" the witch said, taking a step back.

She let out a gasp as her heel hit a rock causing her to stumble. Everything happened too fast and before she knew what was happening, she felt your arms around her and the world seemed to move too fast. A few seconds later she lost consciousness.

_________________

You sighed in resignation as you carefully placed the woman on the bed. You should have known that she wouldn't stand the fast movement, especially not in the exhausted state she was in.

It was because of these things that you showed no mercy to anyone.

You were a monster, a vampire. You couldn't control your strength or your powers. No matter how hard you tried or how well you intended, you would always end up hurting someone.

You looked at the woman carefully. She was beautiful. And if the magic trail was any indication, she was powerful too, you had just met her at a bad time.

"Too bad" you whispered "Maybe you could have finished with me...An end to the terror of the night"

______________________

The blue-eyed woman woke up with a severe headache and a little dizzy. She didn't recognize the warm room she was in, nor the soft bed or the elegant nightgown she was wearing.

It was then that everything came back to her. The chase, the castle. You.

Of all the creatures she could have run into, it had to be a bloody vampire! A monster who wanted blood more than anything, who killed without mercy. A despicable bloodthirsty being.

"And still, you're still alive" said a treacherous voice in her head.

It was a good point. Why was she alive, in a luxurious room, in comfortable clothes, and in a warm, soft bed? Why hadn't you drunk her blood? Or, if you didn't like witch's blood, why not let her die in the cold of the night? It just didn't make sense.

She turned her head quickly when she heard the bedroom door open. You looked at her a little surprised.

"You are awake" you said softly.

Agatha didn't answer. Maybe she had spoken too soon, maybe you were coming to kill her now. However, she soon noticed the copper tray that you brought with you. Why would you bring food if you were going to kill her?

"I...I'm sorry I scared you yesterday" you said a little awkwardly "And I'm sorry I moved so fast. I should have known you would pass out from the speed...sorry"

"Are you apologizing?" she whispered, quite confused

"Well yeah. I just did, didn't I?" you raised your eyebrow "Look...I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

“You won't? Really?" she asked sarcastically "And I suppose you expect me to believe that you are not going to drink my blood"

Her words for some reason hurt you. You were used to people being afraid of you. Even you feared yourself. But you had hoped that, being a witch who had apparently been on the run from hunters, she wouldn't have jumped to conclusions so quickly. Maybe you were hoping you could have someone for the first time in hundreds of years.

Silly of you.

"You can think what you want, my lady" you said, carefully placing the tray on the edge of the bed "The castle is yours if you wish. No one will harm you here"

With that, you gave her one last sad look and quickly left the room.

Agatha stared at the door for a few seconds before looking at the food. Had you taken the trouble to save and feed her and were you even offering her a roof? Again, maybe she had spoken too soon.

There was something in your gaze that had caught her attention. Your eyes, despite their color of blood, were not loaded with hunger or murder, but with fear, sadness and hatred. But something told her that it wasn’t hatred directed at her.

"She's afraid of herself" she whispered.

The more she thought about it, the more pity she felt for you. She knew well the feeling of being afraid of what you are, of not belonging anywhere. She knew what it was like to be rejected by people who didn't understand what you were.

"Maybe...we have more in common than I thought" she said, carefully taking the tray.

Maybe you weren't so bad after all.

- - - - - - - - - - -

KH tag: @mochiadria

[hb-writes]

Just Because You Can Doesn’t Mean You Should

Summary: After a few rainy days stuck inside during spring break, the whole Cullen clan is feeling restless and resort to pranking to pass the time.

Featuring: Emmett Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, and Mia Cullen

-- It had rained for fifteen days straight in Forks, a parade of stubborn drizzles followed by steady downpours and carrying over into the week-long spring break. Mia didn't usually mind the rain, quite used to it giving her something to watch out the window when she didn't care for a teacher's lesson or the drops of it falling against her window and lulling her to sleep at night.

She usually enjoyed the impromptu breaks her family took from school, too, more than happy to roam the woods or sit out in the sun with a book while Forks High School held the impression that Dr. and Mrs. Cullen had pulled the kids out of school for some outdoor activity. But being stuck inside while the school was closed for an endlessly rainy break had Mia feeling a little restless.

It had taken her only a day to finish her pending assignments, and just one more to completely rearrange her bedroom. She had actually grown tired of staring at things, her eyes fatigued by and bored with her laptop screen, books, and the view out her window. And she had grown tired of her siblings too, bored of their usual indoor pursuits and routines.

By day three, Mia had strayed to playing innocent pranks to pass the time—moving her siblings' things when they left the room and making failed attempts to sneak up on all of them, but most specifically Emmett, who'd first made a game of scaring her, wrapping the whole family up in it so that Mia could hardly go an hour without being snuck up on.

Because of that, her pride and joy in regards to the pranks had been the alterations she made to Emmett's jeep, a prank she entered into knowing it would likely be an act of delayed gratification, not like the hiding of frequently needed items or the botched pop up scares. Emmett had no need to take a vehicle out any time soon. If he was going anywhere, he was more likely to run, and once school was back in session, they would be more likely to take Edward's car. Mia knew she could be waiting weeks for any sort of acknowledgement.

She was willing to wait though, the mere recollection of all she had done sufficient enough to get her through Emmett continuing to scare her over and over. She’d done a few things to his jeep, easy stuff like rearranging the mirrors and seats, and adjusting the radio volume to its maximum, and changing the station to the local one that favored heavy metal. But all of that was mostly a distraction because Mia was far more proud of the collection of nuts and bolts in tin cans duct-taped under his seats and inside the spare tire set on the back to the jeep. The whole vehicle would be rattling if he hit a bump or tapped the break, two things she assumed Emmett would encounter before even making it out of the driveway. 

Mia wasn’t usually one for such targeted and premeditated pranks, but Emmett had made a sport of scaring Mia over their week of near-confinement, and she felt he deserved something beyond the standard prank. So when the opportunity arose, with her siblings out for a hunt, her father at the hospital, and her mother occupied with some project in her studio, Mia took her opportunity. 

She knew Emmett would discover the rattle was no more than a prank after he asked Rose to take a look at it, but she still giggled to herself imagining what would happen when he finally brought himself to ask for Rose’s help and then she laughed once again imagining the look on Rose’s face as she held up one of the offending cans. Emmett was clueless when it came to cars. Completely clueless.

But she had only had to wait a few days because Rose had decided she wanted to go on a date, and Emmett insisted on driving, insisted on getting dressed up, and settling himself down on the couch beside Mia while he waited for Rose to finish getting ready.

Had Mia realized they would be taking Emmett's vehicle, she wouldn't have stayed in such a vulnerable position, lounging there on the couch. She would have put some more distance between herself and her siblings, and a locked door, perhaps. She would have prepared herself a bit better to feign ignorance.

But as she had been caught off guard, she hadn't been prepared to fight when Rose stomped back through the front door with Emmett following in her wake. Rose had barely spared her a glance, the can rattling in her hand as she continued straight up the stairs.

And though it all clicked very suddenly that she was about to be told on, Mia couldn't scramble fast enough because it seemed to happen too quickly that Emmett had plucked her off the couch and was placing her down in Carlisle's office, less than two steps away from a seething Rose.

To Rose's dismay, there hadn't been any true repercussions for the prank aside from Carlisle's request that Mia issue a genuine apology and an acknowledgment that cars were not something to be messed with. Mia had laid low for a few days anyhow, avoiding Emmett and Rose, and even her father, to the best of her ability, which was why Mia had settled in for a day of self-care, feeling she’d earned an afternoon of soothing teas and good music and moisturizing skincare and nail painting after all of the effort put into pranking and the hassle of being found out. 

With the rain and the music and her own voice filling her ears, Mia didn’t hear Emmett push her door open or tread across her bedroom floor. Had he been a human of his proportions, he’d not be able to sneak up on her, but as it was, Emmett was stealthy whenever he wished to be, able to take unassuming and delicate steps despite his size. 

“Boo.”

The word was barely above a whisper and Mia stumbled and let out a scream, startled just as much by the hushed remark as she was by the quick rush of breath near her ear and the hands that grasped her before she fell. 

“EMMETT!” she shouted, pushing at his hold and groaning once he settled her back on her feet. 

He reached over to turn down the music, laughing. “You’re too easy, kid.”

“And you’re a stupid jerk,” Mia ground out, shoving against his solid chest with all her might only for him to stand there unaffected, chest puffed out and smiling down at her. “You scared me!”

“Same here,” he said, gesturing towards the green clay mask on her face. “Got a bit of a Wicked Witch of the West thing going on there.” 

Mia’s rolled her eyes. “Actually, I was channeling my idiot older brother.”

“Ah, so Yoda, then?” Emmett smirked. “What an honor.” 

“Hulk,” she offered. “You know, the incomprehensible behemoth with no self-control?”

Mia stepped away from him, heading towards the bathroom to rinse her face and Emmett appeared before her once again, another scream coming from her lips. 

“Stop doing that!” 

“I’m sure you’ve done something to earn it,” he answered, “just haven’t figured out what yet.”

“I’ve been up here all day, Em.” 

“Yeah, and unfortunately your voice carries. Sounds like you’re drowning cats up here.” Emmett turned to glance in the open bathroom door and Mia smacked him on the arm. 

“I’m going to tell Dad if—” 

“Speaking of Carlisle, he wants to see you.” 

“Why?”

Emmett shrugged. “I’m just the messenger, but you might want to clean that off and drop the Oscar the Grouch act before you go down there.” 

Mia clenched her fist. If it would have done anything, she might’ve hit him, wiping that smug little grin off his face entirely, but she knew it wouldn’t, so she took a deep breath instead, releasing her fist and smiling instead.

“You mind giving me a minute, then?” 

“Wait for wicked sister grouch, the Yoda Hulk brother will,” Emmett answered.

Mia took another deep breath, waiting a moment to see if he was serious, rolling her eyes as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door frame.

“I don’t need you to wait. I can remember how to get myself downstairs,” she said, but Emmett didn’t budge so she moved to the sink. 

She took her time with rinsing and moisturizing and didn’t utter a word to Emmett as she tried to step past him, but his hand caught her chin, though his palm and fingers spanned the whole bottom half of her face really, and the whole maneuver stopped her from moving entirely with little effort on Emmett’s part. 

“So soft now, your skin is.”

“Emmeh, lemme go!” Mia shouted, her words muffled as her cheeks remained squished between his fingers. “Yur nod fummy.” 

Emmett laughed, dropping his hold and holding a guiding hand out in front of them. “Fine, grouch. Go ahead, then.” 

“I will.” Mia massaged her jaw as she took the stairs nearly two at a time. “And I’m going to tell Dad you’re being an assh—” 

Mia’s mouth closed as she took a step off the stairs, rounding the corner, nearly knocking into her father.

Carlisle caught her arm as she stumbled and Mia briefly checked his face for any sign he intended to reprimand her for the word choice, but her eyes were instead pulled to the mess of tin cans on the table.

"What's…"

"All of this?" Carlisle asked as Mia wormed her way out of his hold. "I was hoping you might be able to tell us."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the cans, her father, and her brother, who had taken a seat at the counter.

"I've been up in my room all day. I don't even know what 'this' is."

Emmett put his feet up on the stool beside him. "You're busted, kid. Might as well give up the act."

"I'm not busted because I didn't do anything.”

"Well, the fourteen tin cans found in the cars would say otherwise," Carlisle answered. "I thought we were in agreement that there would be no more pranks played, especially where the cars are involved?"

Mia’s mouth fell open a bit before she gulped. "But I didn't—"

Carlisle held up the can that certainly had been Mia's doing, a neat 'With love, Mia,' painted out on the side of the can with nail polish.

"You did this?"

Mia couldn't find the words, but she finally nodded. "But I didn't—"

Carlisle held up another tin can, a nearly identical message written out on the side with the very same shade of pink and Mia stepped forward, pulling the can from his grasp to study it closer.

"Dad, I didn't do this," she answered, "Emmett must've…he must be—"

"I must be what?"

Mia jumped at her brother's closeness and she smacked his shoulder as a reflex. "Stop doing that!” she said before turning back to Carlisle. “Dad, tell him to stop scaring me."

Carlisle sighed. "Amelia, I thought we were on the same page after our discussion. You agreed to stop with the pranks, but since our discussion doesn’t seem to have been enough—"

"Dad, I didn't do this," she answered. "I—"

"What about this?"

Mia let out a rushed exhale, a nervous laugh coming at the end of it. She had forgotten about the photo she'd replaced days ago, switching out one of her father and her as a baby to that of her father holding a potato wrapped in cream-colored blankets.

"I did that ages ago. It was before we talked."

"Aw, come on, Mia. You don't think we're that stupid, do you?" Emmett asked.

Mia turned from her father to her brother. "I think you are."

She shrieked as Emmett twirled her around, wrapping one arm across her chest as he held her against his front, using his free hand to clamp down over her mouth.

"Alright, I think we've heard enough of her lip, Carlisle. It's time for sentencing. Fearless leader, do your worst."

Mia knew her father would never do his worst. She wasn’t even aware of what Carlisle Cullen’s worst entailed, having never seen him more than slightly aggrieved, but she thrashed against her brother’s hold anyhow, prying at his hands until he caught her arms, and then she kicked at his shins, but Emmett easily sidestepped her attempts.

Mia yelled her brother’s name, the sound muffled into his palm before she bit down. It didn’t hurt him, more of a shock that she’d even done it, than anything. She'd gone through a short-lived biting phase around three or four, but they’d been incident free since then.

Emmett smirked. “Are you sure you want to challenge me to a biting war, kid?”

Carlisle cleared his throat. “I think a more appropriate punishment would be for Amelia to clean and detail the cars.” 

She groaned, her efforts to get out of Emmett’s hold renewed, if only because she wanted to voice her protest. 

“And dust every picture frame in the house,” Carlisle continued as Emmett finally uncovered her mouth.

“But that’s going to take forever and I—”

“I suspect it will keep you busy for the remainder of your break and provide you with plenty of time to think about your behavior,” Carlisle said. “And you’re grounded...three weeks.” 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Mia groaned, “Dad, I didn’t even do this! I—”

Mia felt Emmett shaking with silent laughter before she noticed the mischievous glint in her father’s eye, the slightest of smiles coming to his face. 

“You actually are joking, aren’t you?” 

Carlisle shrugged. “Emmett and I thought you could benefit from a little dose of your own medicine, Mia.”

Mia sighed. “So I don’t have to do any of what you said, then?”

Emmett lifted her over his shoulder, moving steadily towards the door.. “You’re still helping me wash the jeep, kid. Need to teach you the importance of not messing with my things.” 

“But it’s pouring out—Dad! Help!”

Carlisle stepped forward, beating them to the door.

“Thank yo—” Mia started.

He pulled his daughter’s rain jacket off the hook, handing it to Emmett. “We wouldn’t want your sister getting sick,” he said. “And let me get that for you.” 

Carlisle opened the door, an eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his face as Emmett carried her through. 

“Have fun, sweetheart.” 

--

Twilight Masterlist

[sassmundthejust]

If I fall for you, I’ll never recover.

If I fall for you, I’ll never be the same.

~Edmund Pevensie one shot~

TW: I can only write depressive stories, but it has happy ending. Also I used she/her pronouns for y/n.

Characters: Edmund Pevensie, y/n, Peter Pevensie, mentions Susan and Lucy, made up Lord Callan and Lord Ezekiel

Time Period: few years after the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Word count: 1195

Authors note: English isn’t my first language so if I made any mistakes feel free to let me know. As always I love you guys so much and I am so grateful for every single one of you reading, commenting and liking my stuff. I know I am not posting fan fictions as much as others so sorry about that. Anyways, enjoy this story I wrote after falling into my depression hole again. Love you!!

Yet again I found myself staring out the window of our study room where meetings are usually held. One of the lords, Lord Callan, was explaining the dangers that awaits us behind the borders of Archenland.

„...it is your concern too Lord Ezekiel. If the Giants reach the borders, they’ll destroy everything, and that includes your partnership with Calormen. Everyone sitting here in this room knows that, that’s the only thing making you some coins. Dirty, dirty coins!”

Anger and jealousy could be spotted in his words. But also honest concern about his people. Lord Ezekiel just uncomfortably shifted in his chair, thoughts forming in his head. For a moment, the only thing I could hear was silent mumbling of the others. Lord Ezekiel opened his mouth to argue or defend his ego but was shortly interrupted by Peter, the high king of Narnia and also my brother.

„Tell us what you need from us Lord Callan and we will vote on that.”

Peter said tiredly but still he managed to keep his royal tone. It wasn’t the first, nor the last time, I believe, meeting that led to shouting, fighting or even threatening.

I tried so hard to keep my attention to the conversation that was slowly escalating right in front of me, but I just couldn’t keep my head clear enough. All the late studying in our library led to sleepless nights. The spark in my eyes was no longer there and my bags under my eyes became bigger and deeper each day. All the strict training left my bode sore for so many days. We were just children. Me, Peter, Susan and Lucy. Children that had to cary a whole kingdom on their shoulders where mothers hand should be, assuring them, keeping them save. But there was no one to rely on, no one to turn to. Children that had to wear crown, that barely fit on their heads. We were just children, yet it always felt like our souls were here before the first sunrise in Narnia.

I rub my eyes for the hundredth time this evening and let my eyes wonder again to the window. Candle flames dancing in front of it with rain and thunderstorm being their little conductors. There were not too many rainy days in Narnia, but every day like this is only excuse to finally get some rest. But not today.

„You know,” i regained my focus and slightly shifted in my chair to seem more royal, to seem more important, „if you didn’t bother the Giants in the first place, they wouldn’t try to attack you back. They are pretty reasonable if you don’t cross their path.” I said while playing with one of my chess pieces.

All eyes were on me. Uncomfortable silence was here yet again. Eye rolling at my youth or my choice of words could be seen from miles away, they didn’t bother to hide it. Lord Callan suddenly rised up from his chair, but was lost for his words, except one.

„Traitor!” Even though those words were only whispered, I could hear them loud and clear. Those words struck me hard. I touched my stomach were a scar could be seen. The scar resembles forgiveness of my reckless and selfish action many years ago when we first arrive here. But did I forgive myself? Or did I still beat myself with the guild and rage I felt on that battlefield, laying and trying to catch my last breath that was slowly drifting away from me just before Lucy saved me with her healing potion. Did I deserve being saved though? At this very moment, I would say I didn’t. Just this little word brought so many feelings and emotions I thought I buried right at that battlefield. But now it has been dug up, piece by piece, just slowly enough as I deserve.

„I think we can all agree, that continuing this meeting has no clear point. We are all tired and little on edge. Let’s come together tomorrow and continue where we left of.” Peter said not meeting my gaze. Not sure if Peter heard that word, but I was begging with my eyes, that he was so trying to avoid, for some reassurance.

Everyone slowly left the meeting room without a single word. Peter was the last one to leave the room. For a second I thought he’s gonna leave just like that, without acknowledging me as a king or as his brother. As he was leaving, he put one of his hands on my shoulder and gave me a little squeeze. He opened his mouth but closed it a second after, realizing no words can fix this. Instead he gave me his warm Peter smile. I sit there frozen, trying to fight back the tears forming in my almost hollow eyes.

After what felt like an eternity I finally found the strength in me to stand up. When I was passing through the halls where most of our servants were preparing the castle for a ball, I felt like everyone’s eyes were fixated on me. Had I imagined that or has everyone thought of me the same as Lord Callan? I tried to shake the thought out of my head.

Finally I reached my chambers. I opened the door and there she was, sitting on our bed lost in her favorite book. My beloved, my life and my only meaning. Her fingers carefully flipping the pages getting more lost in another fictional world. The door made a creeping sound when I close them witch made her lock her loving eyes with mine. When she gave me her precious smile it’s like all my worries were never there. Warmth full of her love filled me inside making my shivers to disappear. My mind was focusing only on my beloved and how she clearly noticed in what state I am right now, but her smile never gave it away. She moved slowly towards me reaching without a word for my face which she cupped with her loving hands. My head fell right into her hands with a single tear running down my cheek which she caught with her fingers.

I took her hands into mine, kissed her knuckles and hugged her as tight as possible like she was my only Sun and I her only Moon. For a while we just rock in each other’s arms. I stroked her cheek and looked into her eyes. I would gladly drown in them if it meant I would be able to look in them for eternity. I felt so selfish that she fell in love with me. She deserved someone better. And I pity myself because I knew if I fell for her I would never recover. And I pity myself yet again because I knew if I fell for her I’d never be the same. But that’s exactly what I need. Never be the same, never be hunted by my past and memories. I deserve her love and she deserves mine. And with that I kissed her like I never wanted to breath again if it meant not breathing for her.

[savethelastdan]

Sesskagu Week Day 2: Green (Apart)

Idea came from @dearestpartnerofgreatness​

"I was wonderin' when you'd get here." Sliding both hands behind his head, Inuyasha looked his half-brother up and down with more than a little smugness. "Took a week to finally admit to yourself that you were wrong, stupid?"

"I was not wrong," Sesshomaru growled, despite the tinge of relief that the hanyou's statement proved that he'd successfully hunted Kagura down. That he'd spotted his brother sleeping on a curved branch of a tree outside heart of the village was both a detriment (in that he had to listen to him talk) and a blessing (he had no interest in walking around the village looking like a fool while she danced around avoiding him). "She overreacted."

A single dog ear twitched in amusement. "Great apology. Should go over well."

"I would think," Sesshomaru retorted, voice lowering as a group of villagers reached the top of the hill and promptly about-faced upon seeing him, "you would welcome the opportunity to remove her from your home, so that you may have peace once again."

Inuyasha's mouth opened comically wide before snapping shut. "Humph. Fine."

Stretching until several bones in his back cracked, he leapt down from the tree and bounded off. Sesshomaru turned his back to the tree, trying to appear unflappable as possible.

He hadn't been wrong, no matter how much the wind sorceress fussed. If anything, she had taken advantage of his generosity. Had he not lost months of sleep, seeking a way to stuff her soul back in an unmastered body, with an unmastered heart at her disposal? Had he not then allowed her to join his party on their travels despite the constant arguing between herself and Jaken and how his mood suffered because of it?

She had repaid him by deciding, for no reason at all, to start collecting. Nothing of importance; naturally, the bits and bobbles that drew Kagura's interest were as useless as they were commonplace. Withering leaves, sharp stones in muddied colors, feathers and scales and scraps of cloth or petrified wood, all constantly underfoot.

It was childish. It was pointless. And so, after the hundredth time something small and irksome found itself under his foot, Sesshomaru had tossed the whole pile away.

Which was how he'd been left with a blow to his chest that took a full day to heal, while Kagura ran off to invade Inuyasha's stupid little house in the stupid little village. The fact she'd rather be surrounded by humans than be around him was taken with the full force of insult she'd meant it to be. By now she'd probably convinced Kohaku and Rin to take her side…

At least he had Jaken's understanding.

He should not even be rewarding such a tantrum, by marching here to collect her. But…despite the headaches that her presence occasionally brought, her absence had endeared him to certain feelings. Those that, perhaps, could be analogized to how Kagura herself might have felt, back in the days where her much-wanted heart had been miles away.

Not that he could ever bring himself to say something like that out loud. Even to her, who had managed to wring quite a few utterances out of him that even Rin would have had trouble believing had come from Sesshomaru's own tongue.

There had to be a line somewhere.

(Perhaps time would wear it down, eventually, but unless she came home, the situation was moot.)

Annoyance stung the space behind his teeth as Inuyasha returned, no wind witch in tow. From the grumpy expression on the hanyou's face, he wasn't too thrilled about it either.

"She says she ain't interested in talkin' to ya." Folding both arms over his chest, Inuyasha glared in Sesshomaru's direction. "But you're right, she's overstayed her welcome. So start thinkin' how you're going to convince her to leave."

Sesshomaru bristled; demonic energy flooded his veins. "I do not take orders from- "

"Cut it out, you stopped being scary when you let Kagome start callin' ya Big Brother." The last few words were said in a high-pitched mimicry of the priestess, though it was quickly followed by the classically-ridiculous smile that Inuyasha always got when he mentioned his wife. "If it helps, I think she's just being difficult. She stopped thinkin' up creative ways to kill you a few days ago; the rest of the time, she's just been moping around. One gritted-teeth apology'll probably work."

That most certainly did not help, because as soon as they were in the same room again Sesshomaru was sure the reason for her ire would no doubt return in full force.

Inuyasha's brow dropped. "You seriously not gonna do it?"

"Would you?" Sesshomaru retorted icily, before he could stop himself.

"I," Inuyasha said, with the slow relish of someone who had been waiting for this exact question, "would've never thrown out her stuff in the first place."

Tenseiga and Bakusaiga's commentary was, while amusing, not particularly useful. Beating his brother to a pulp for being a know-it-all would do nothing but earn the ire of his sister-in-law. Which Sesshomaru did not need today.

"What's the problem with having stuff, anyway," Inuyasha continued, scratching behind one ear as though this was a casual family visit. "Other than the fan and feathers, it's not like she got to keep any shit around before. From what Kohaku said, Naraku didn't like for any of 'em to go exploring much, either. She's got the time and you've got the space, so it's a stupid thing to fight about."  

As much as he did not want to admit it (and one could imagine just how much that was), that was a fair point. As was his belief that she could have chosen a more interesting and less obnoxious form of self-expression.

"You know, she mentioned somethin' a few times when she was cursing you…" Trying to keep his tone even was difficult, but the thought of Kagura going home helped. Even though this particular statement felt kinda unfair, even against someone like Sesshomaru. "How you didn't lift a finger to save her life, and now you won't even let her enjoy it, or…?"

Sitting with his feet propped on the windowsill, Jaken hummed a happy tune. It had been over a week without the annoying witch around, and he felt in much better spirits with her gone! No more sudden bursts of wind to knock him over in the corridors, or piles of random garbage from who-knew-where cluttering up the place. And there was still at least two weeks before Rin and Kohaku came for their annual summer visit and disturbed his peace.

Granted, Lord Sesshomaru's mood had been…sour since she'd gone, to the point that he'd left the castle in a huff the day before. But that was not a problem for Jaken; if anything, it hopefully meant that soon they'd be back to the old days of 24/7-wandering, offering challenges to whatever foolish yokai crossed their path! Not that having time to rest in the castle wasn't nice, but he certainly missed the days before Lord Sesshomaru had settled down, so-to-speak, and regulated his travels to the fall and spring seasons.  

Suddenly, a powerful aura electrified the air, sending a chill zipping up through his legs. Leaning towards the window, he scanned the landscape with excitement. That must be Lord Sesshomaru! Perhaps he had returned with a task, a quest, just like the days before his Lord's heart had turned -

Oh no. Oh no.

Because yes, indeed, there was his esteemed Lord touching down in the front courtyard. But unfortunately, right at his side, with a smile he could see from here, was that annoying sorceress. As he watched, Sesshomaru brushed a hand against her arm with such uncharacteristic softness that it made the kappa feel ill.

Kagura said something (probably wicked, from the way her scarlet eyes glinted in the sunlight) and then twisted to unload something off her back. To Jaken's horror, she was carrying a knapsack. The same one she used to collect her stupid little trinkets all the time.

And it looked heavy.

[onlyangelcas]

rosé flowing with your chosen family

my addition to @spnwomenweek ☼ day 2: family | read on ao3

“Claire,” Kaia says softly, placing her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “This is your family, what are you so worried about?”

Claire sighs, unsure of what exactly is so nerve wracking about walking into a house filled with her loved ones. Her back is resting against the side of her beat up station wagon, one sneaker kicking uselessly at the gravel under her feet and Kaia is looking at her with those concerned eyes that make her stomach knot up with guilt.

In front of her, past the somewhat wild front lawn, is Sam and Eileen’s new home, where their family is gathered for a last minute housewarming party. Sam and Eileen had put in an offer a few days after their wedding back in March, eager to get out of the dingy bunker and begin their life as a married couple. Claire was happy for them, Sam deserved a life of domesticity, just as Cas and Dean did.

It was weird, those first few weeks after the Winchsesters had defeated Chuck, God, whatever. Claire was devastated by the news of Cas being taken by the Empty, she hardly moved from her bed in the days following. Left confused, broken, and grieving an angel who was like her father in more ways than just his appearance. Kaia was supportive, of course, content to cuddle up next to her and run a soothing hand through her hair or convince her to eat a real meal at least once a day.

Before she even had the chance to fully process the loss of Cas, Jack and Dean had rescued him from the Empty. She remembered Jody’s voice calling out to her, she had slid from her bed and padded toward the front door. Claire was shocked to see Cas standing there, normal trench coat and suit traded in for a sweater and jeans, his hand tightly holding Dean’s. The two men had looked at her with concern, probably taking in her wrinkled pajamas, two-day-old bun, and the dark circles under her eyes. She had passed on asking the millions of questions that had flooded her mind in favor of wrapping herself tightly around Cas.

Claire had never been one to show her emotions so viscerally, but in that moment she couldn’t help the tears that quickly rolled down her cheeks. The joy of seeing Cas, when she thought he was gone for good, standing in her living room full of life and having apparently worked out whatever feelings he had for Dean, was overwhelming. Cas held her tightly while Dean ran a soothing hand across her back, and she wept openly for the first time since the Bad Place.

After that, things had returned to normal. Not normal for Claire, because all she had really known for the last few years was hunting, but the kind of normal where she didn’t have to kill monsters or worry that Sam and Dean were off getting themselves in trouble. There weren’t any monsters to hunt anymore, which left her feeling empty and useless for months. Kaia had pulled her out of that, like Kaia always did, and they decided to travel across the country and see the places they had never been able to enjoy before. It was freeing, to be on the open road, enjoying just being alive.

Claire and Kaia often passed through Kansas to visit Cas, Dean, and Jack at their house on the lake or to swing by the bunker to see Sam and Eileen. They never missed a birthday, wedding, or big event. Which is how they found themselves back in Kansas, Jody had called to let them know everyone was getting together for a housewarming party for Sam and Eileen. Her and Kaia had been in Memphis, enjoying barbecue and Blues, so the drive wasn’t too much of a hassle.

“Earth to blondie,” Kaia says, snapping Claire back to the present. “Are we going inside anytime soon? I’m starving, babe.”

Claire clears her throat, “Yeah, sorry. Lost in my head.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She looks into Kaia’s eyes, the usual soft brown painted with worry, and smiles in hopes it will ease her girlfriend’s concern, “No, I’m good, just overthinking. Let’s go eat.”

Kaia gives her a tentative smile, wrapping her hand around Claire’s and pulling her in for a chaste kiss.

They approach the front door, Claire raises her hand to knock but before her knuckles make contact the door swings open, revealing Sam with a grin spread across his face. He quickly wraps them both up in a hug and pulls them inside the loud and lively house. Claire and Kaia congratulate him on the house before breaking away to greet Jody, Donna, Alex, and Patience.

After hugs are exchanged and road trip updates are given, Claire slips away to the kitchen for a drink and Kaia heads toward Cas and Eileen who are clearly gossiping in ASL in the far corner of the living room.

Claire yanks open the fridge and helps herself to a beer, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink before propping herself against the counter.

“Hello Claire,” Jack says happily from where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, Claire hadn’t even noticed him when she first came in.

“Jack, jeeze, you scared me.”

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen me.” Jack responds, his hands wrapped around a can of root beer.

“Yeah, I guess I was a little lost in thought.” She says, turning her head toward the door where the sound of Dean’s laughter is filtering through.

There’s a pause then, as Claire contemplates how she ended up here, with this ragtag group of former hunters, angels, and a witch that she calls family. It’s weird, she had always expected her dad to show back up one day and make their family whole again, back when she was young and naive. It’s even weirder, she thinks, that this band of misfits has become a better image of family than she could ever imagine to have with her mother and father. Claire had come to think of herself as a combination of Novak-Winchester-Mills-Hanscum for quite some time now, content to be part of this chosen family.

She still missed her mom and dad, from time to time, wondered what life would have been like if they had stayed with her. Claire never let herself spend too long on that path, knowing that if things had been different she would have never known Jody or Alex, she would never have known Cas, or Sam and Dean, she never would have fallen in love with Kaia. She has a family now; she found a mother in Jody and Donna, Castiel and Dean became her kind-of dads, Sam and Eileen the closest thing she has to an uncle and aunt, Alex and Patience are her sisters, Jack her brother. It’s weird and mismatched, but it’s hers and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Claire,” Jack says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You seem troubled.”

Claire flashes him a watery smile, suddenly overcome with affection for her perfectly messed up family, “Actually the opposite.”

Jack smiles back at her, a gap-toothed goofy grin, “Oh, I thought you were upset.”

She pushes herself away from the counter, abandoning her beer on the stone surface, and makes her way over to Jack. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Claire, anything.” Jack says, his head tilting up slightly to lock eyes with Claire, who is standing close enough that she’s marginally taller than Jack sitting down.

Claire pulls Jack into a hug, wrapping her arms so tightly around him that her ribs ache, “I love you.”

Jack slowly loops his arms around Claire, resting his cheek against her shoulder, “I love you, too.”

She lets out a wet laugh, giving Jack one final squeeze before pulling away.

“Well,” A gruff voice says from the doorway. “Isn’t that just a sight for sore eyes.”

Claire whips her head around to find Dean lounging against the doorframe, his face soft with a bit of fondness in his eyes.

“Hello Dean,” Jack says, his face still twisted up in a goofy grin.

Dean stalks forward into the kitchen, quickly wrapping the two up in a warm embrace and pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. He pulls away just as quickly as he pulled them in, locking eyes with Claire and giving her a look that conveys all the words he can’t say out loud.

“Jack helped me get a bunch of Sammy’s baby pictures scanned onto a CD and I’m gonna put ‘em up on the TV for everyone, you don't wanna miss it.” Dean says, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

She laughs, “Sounds mortifying, I can’t wait to see Sam’s face.”

“C’mon,” He says, jerking his head toward the living room before turning and heading out the door.

Claire watches him and Jack disappear into the other room, smiling to herself as she snatches up her beer and heads into the chaos. Cas, Kaia, and Eileen are still deep in conversation. Jody and Donna are whispering quietly to each other on the other side of the room. Rowena, Patience, and Alex are pressed together on the couch, a martini glass dangling from Rowena’s hand as she gestures wildly, obviously recounting an insane tale as the other women listen with rapt attention.

She slides in next to Sam, who is leaning against the stairway railing, eyeing Jack and Dean with suspicion as they fiddle with the disc player next to the TV.

“This is a great house, Sammy.”

Sam looks down at her, smiling slightly, “It’s not bad, but it’s the people who really make it home.”

Claire returns his smile, then turns back to the scene in front of her; all her favorite people, the people she loves most in the world, gathered in one room.

Dean always says, family don’t end with blood, something his own stand-in father, Bobby, used to tell him. Claire never met Bobby, but she thinks he might have been onto something.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

[tomione thing] Thanks for the recs! I actually was looking forward to the rant, I like how you break things apart so they make sense in a very unique way.( I don't have any strong feelings to the pairing if that was your concern, I just think the stories about them have the potential to be fantastic because I enjoy intelligent characters going through life and solving problems and, usually, in fanfiction there's focus on only one smart character.

So, you people are just poking me with sticks to see what ridiculous opinions spew out then. I’m onto your game.

With that said, let’s get to answering then, and know that you bring this upon yourself.

I loathe Tomione. I put up with it, sometimes, because I will read almost any fic featuring Tom Riddle as a main character. (Want the Carnivorous Muffin to read your fic? Tom Riddle as a main character. Even if I disagree with 110% of your premise I will probably still read your story.)

However, it’s extremely telling that my recs the other day were hilariously small, and one was actually Hermione/Loki. The Tomione exists, I just hate it.

This is for two main reasons. First, I just don’t believe the ship would ever work under any circumstances and the pair are naturally doomed to loathe one another. Second, fanfiction has a collection of tropes associated with Tomione that are in unbearable (likely caused unconsciously by the first, Tomione doesn’t really work, so we do terrible things to make it work). 

Tomione Doesn’t Work: Change My Mind

So, remember we’re living in Muffin-land for this. I’ve explained some of my headcanons regarding these characters, and I’ll offer brief explanation for why I think what I do here, but I’m not going to expand on it too much.

Tomione has appeal under the premise that either you or someone else previously mentioned: they’re both so smart, of course they belong together.

The trouble, Hermione’s not nearly as smart as she thinks she is. What we see of Hermione’s cleverness boils down to having a very good work ethic and reading a lot of books. She tends to outsmart Ron and Harry because she actually puts in the work to do her homework and, my god, read her text books. Also, as I’ve covered before, Harry’s an idiot, so that’s a low bar.

Because Hogwarts can be passed by the likes of Crabbe and Goyle, and the curriculum seems to boil down to “pronounce this fake Latin correctly, ooh look, a spell”, actually reading her books not only gets Hermione by but skyrockets her ahead of her peers. Who, apparently, have no ear at all and don’t understand the swishy motions are important and probably never bothered to read their books.

This isn’t to say she’s stupid, she’s by far one of the more intelligent characters in the series, but it says a lot of not so good things about Hogwarts that Hermione is the “brightest witch of her generation”. In my mind she has never compared to characters like Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, Severus Snape, or Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione never questions how magic exists, why wands work, or why pronunciation is so weirdly important and why we’re using spells that are gibberish Latin instead of English or simply Latin. She never takes that step outside the box I would expect a truly intelligent person to take.

An example, Hermione completely throws out the entire discipline of divination. This is part because she believes it’s stupid, but she also only spends about two seconds thinking about it, and she doesn’t appear to be any good at it. If Hermione’s not good at it then it must be a stupid subject for stupid people.

Now, that alone doesn’t doom her, but it does put a huge chink in the major appeal of Tomione: they’re both just so brilliant that they’d be great together.

What dooms them is that Hermione both a) thinks she is as brilliant as all these other people and b) has this pervasive need to be the smartest person in any room she walks into. Hermione comes across Tom Riddle in the past or just chills with Voldemort in the future, she will inevitably try to show him up. This isn’t just to assure us that good is better than evil, but because she can’t help herself, because being the smartest is how she defines herself.

As a result, especially if we’re in the time travel/school setting, she would inevitably get in competition with him to prove she’s so much better/smarter than he is. It would undoubtedly be on her terms, probably revolving around school work, and she’d throw a fit when Tom wins because he understands the value in being concise where Hermione would quite easily write a hundred page Potions’ essay (that had a five page limit) with the subtext “PRAISE ME” written on every page.

I can’t imagine Tom Riddle would find this anything but completely obnoxious and a waste of his time.

Now, part of this goes into headcanon land, but I have always imagined, 100%, that Tom Riddle in Hogwarts was treated like a muggleborn, that he didn’t find out his ancestry until at least part of the way through, and he never confessed to being the Heir of Slytherin. I can back this up, but that’s another story for another day, I’ll just say that no matter what Dumbledore says any other backdrop makes no damn sense.

So, Tom has clawed the respect of his peers into reality with bleeding hands, he came from nothing in a way that even the ‘good’ purebloods wouldn’t have sympathy for. Even the muggleborns I imagine thought they were better than him. Tom is an impoverished orphan, so poor he has to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, he was not having a fun time at school.

Tom has ambitions, is mired in hatred, and is not really all that wrapped up in Hogwarts except to get him where he wants to go.

Now, imagine Hermione suddenly shows up in front of this Tom. Suddenly he’s being challenged to essay competitions, she probably leaves cryptic remarks all the time about how evil he is and how amazing she is because she’s not evil and smarter than he is, and if he thinks he’s smarter than her then he better find time to prove it.

It’s like talking to a Dumbledore he can never escape from.

Tom doesn’t have time for this bullshit.

Tomione not only insists that he does but that he lives for this bullshit. Forget Voldemort, Hermione making weird comments about how Tom has a mutilated soul, or that Dumbledore is so much cooler than he is, is where it’s at. 

As for Hermione, ultimately, I don’t think she’d ever really be attracted to Tom Riddle because he’s too much competition. The guys we’ve seen Hermione with are all safely much dumber than she is, Hermione likes being in relationships with men she feels in some way better than. Tom Riddle is not that guy. 

Add on top of this that Hermione’s righteousness would never allow her to even think about dating someone like Tom and we get her, at best, trying for the sake of destroying him (if she seduces Tom then she destroys Voldemort!) but ultimately failing.

Because the thing is, circling back to where we started, there are different kinds of intelligence, different levels of intelligence, and intelligence alone isn’t a reason to get along. Smart people might gravitate towards smart people, but they still have to have compatible personalities. Reading books isn’t magical glue that can bind people together.

No matter what way I look at it, Hermione and Tom would absolutely loathe one another in every capacity. 

Hermione ends up back in time accidentally and goes to Tom with Hogwarts: utter loathing.

Hermione ends up back in time on purpose and tries to save Tom’s troubled soul or else murder the shit out of him: utter loathing with an extra dash of “what the fuck?!” on Tom’s end.

Hermione ends up back in time after Hogwarts when Tom’s a store clerk: utter loathing (Hermione walks into Tom’s shop to tell him how cool and interesting she is to enter into the typical Tomione mind games, all Tom wants is commission.)

Hermione enters into deals with devils with the horcruxes: utter loathing complete with Tom’s triumphant/Nelson laugh when he inevitably betrays her to get his own body.

A young Tom Riddle somehow winds up in the future and is forced to attend Hogwarts because Dumbledore does what he wants: utter loathing (Tom has to sit there and enjoy Harry and especially Hermione telling him how evil he is and how Hermione’s so much smarter than him because she’s muggleborn and reads books.)

Lord Voldemort takes Hermione hostage during the horcrux hunt: utter loathing (though this would be sadly less irritating to Tom than the others, I imagine, if only because Hermione would probably be more terrified and less righteous. But she’d hate him with the fire of a thousand suns and inevitably pull a horrific revenge scheme on either him or his Death Eaters. No one crosses Hermione. No one.)

You name it, I think it’s going to end with the pair hurling chairs at each other and just being completely and utterly uninterested in every capacity. 

Now, onto how Tomione is typically written, which just makes it so much worse.

Tomione Fics Breed Awful: Change My Mind

Tomione, to me, is born from a few things. It’s born from the author��s desire to have an intelligent, female, borderline SI lead and to shove her together with another edgy smart person with some degree of a bad boy persona.

In this way Tomione fics are very similar to Snape/Hermione fics, are similar to Lokane from Thor/Avengers, are similar to Zutara back in the earlier seasons of Avatar the Last Airbender, etc. 

As a result the fics almost invariably spiral into: “Hermione is so smart, she’s so much smarter than everyone else, she impresses Tom because she is so smart. Tom is so smart but so evil, he sexy growls at her, and confesses how much he hates love every other chapter.” 

Only, as I noted above, while there are many interpretations of Tom’s character (and mine certainly doesn’t agree with the vast majority) I can’t help but think every single version would hate her.

To make him not hate her the author will often turn him into one of two Tom Riddles: Emotionally Deficient Robot Tom or Growling Sexy Sociopath Tom. Emotionally Deficient Robot Tom will often have paragraph long tangents to remind us he doesn’t compute your human emotions, “Beep boop” but despite this Hermione’s out of control hair makes him feel urges “bloop bloop”. Growling sexy sociopath Tom usually goes on a rant about how love is beneath him, backs Hermione into broom closets, and growls as he sexily makes out with her in a non-romantic manner because “ew love”. 

In other words, Tom is made an unbelievably flat character. He becomes a base archetype of sexy villain character. He never really gets redeemed, even if the story insists he does, he usually doesn’t have a reason for the way he is (”um, love potions!” the author often cries), and he and Hermione always think they’re much more important than they are.

The story rarely, if ever, goes anywhere because the entire point of the story is mind games between two sixteen-year-olds who think they’re smarter than everyone else. So we get a lot of chapters of Hermione and Tom running around, being very clever to each other, but doing nothing.

Sometimes authors do deviate from this, we will have an actual plot where we’re not just in Hogwarts again or it’s not just centering on ridiculous mind games. However, even then, Tom is usually is some variant of a very flat cartoon villain while Hermione is... Well, one would think the way she’s described that she’s the smartest, best, most beautiful, most brilliant thing to ever grace this earth.

TL;DR

Tomione is not my jam.

[lovingrosewho]

Purgatory

Hello again! Long story short, previously I had watched Supernatural until the very beginning of season 12, because I found out what happened at the end and at that time, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to take it. Now that I’m rewatching the whole series I figured I’d might as well just keep watching what I didn’t anddd it hasn’t been much easier haha, I cried a lot and immediately started writing this, even before reaching the end of S12, so yeah that’s how bad I wanted my heart not to ache as much. Anyways, for those same reasons, I didn’t know about “the Empty” and perhaps a few things don’t make a lot of sense but I tried them to, sooo, hope you enjoy :-) Plus, some usual disclaimers: English is not my first language, any feedback is welcome, etc. <3 Ly all <3 

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T.- Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.7k+ words (yes, I got a little carried away)

Summary: you somehow get trapped in Purgatory and find Crowley

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD, SET AFTER SEASON 12, veeery slight smut, nudity(?), cursing

You don’t know how you got here. Everything’s dark. Like, pitch dark. The sounds are terrifying; growls and screams all along, sounds of beasts. The smell of blood and death ahead. 

Come on, think. What’s the last thing you remember? You were under a witch spell. Scratching and killing any single thing that got on your way. You had claws. 

You begin to walk, but the creak of the dry leafs beneath you is noisy around here, red eyes surround you and you’re forced to run in the only direction that seems viable. 

Legs trembling, you reach a clear spot between the woods. Where are you? 

“Hello darling” a voice with a british accent behind you startles you. You turn around ready to fight. A man in a ragged suit, covered in dirt and blood raises his hands in surrender “Relax, I’m not here to fight”. 

“Who are you? Where am I?” you demand taking a few steps backwards. He gazes at you curiously.

“You’re... well, we are in Purgatory, love” he reveals and you freeze. 

“No... no that can’t be right” you mumble, more to yourself than to him “Humans don’t go to Purgatory”. 

“That’s exactly what I was wondering. Fancy explaining?” he says in a smug tone. You eye him untrustfully. 

“Who are you?” you ask a second time. He looks impassive.

“Name’s Crowley. Who I am doesn’t matter” he answers cuttingly “What matters is... how and why did you get here? 

You shift uncomfortably, laying your weight first in one foot and then the other. 

“A witch casted a spell on me. I don’t remember much after that... just that I... had claws, and fierce, sharp teeth” you explain careful not to reveal too much information.

“Ah, yes” he nods and chuckles slightly “Nasty spell, that one. Never figured it sent you to Purgatory being a human, though”. 

“Me neither, must be the type of spell” you murmure, when you hear sounds coming from the woods again. Crowley takes your hand.

“Come with me” he says, and with little to no other option, you accept nervously and start walking right behind him. 

You’ve been a hunter your whole life, that is, until you stopped a year ago. You were tired, of the running, of death following you around, of the loneliness. But of course you never knew when, nor how, to fully stop. 

Crowley and you walk in silence, but the foggy ambiance and the sad landscape begin to make you uneasy. 

“How long have you been here?” you ask him, voice almost echoing amongst the trees. A few crows on the distance take flight and their croaks reach your ears, making you shiver. 

“Time doesn’t exist here” he explains after a few seconds “I don’t know how long it’s been”. 

You nod quietly. 

“Why are you helping me?” you sincerely wonder. He stops dry and turns to you.

“Am I?” he asks back, eyes in a little bit of annoyance. You shrug and he sighs, suddenly a dull aura washes over him “I’ll explain when we are somewhere safe. We’re almost there, just, hang on for a little longer, Pet”. 

You accept and start walking again, when you hear a strange hiss. Sideways, you get to see a vampire aiming for your neck. You hit it with a branch near you, but in response it throws you across the woods, hitting your back with a tree. Pain strikes you out, you’re barely able to get up, the adrenaline of hunting coming right back to you, ready to keep fighting, when Crowley beheads it from behind with a machete. 

“My, my. What do we have here?” he says in amusement, eyeing you “I know that look. That pose. You’re a hunter. I knew no common human could take that lightly being killed by a witch and going to Purgatory”. 

Before you can even answer he grabs your arm, prompting you to keep walking.

“Easy there love. If that one found us, that means there’s more to come. We’ll chat when we’re safe” he states and you nod, following him. 

You don’t know how much time passes. It feels like ages walking. Everything starts to look the same. You and Crowley reach a darker area.

“Does this mean it’s sundown?” you ask innocently. Crowley chuckles. 

“No. Nothing like that. There’s no such thing as sundown here. Everything stays the same. There’s no day nor night” he explains “No, this place is just where I come to get some rest when I can. It’s usually lonesome, but I try to keep moving anyways”. 

“It’s weird but...” you begin “I don’t really feel sleepy... I’m tired yeah but-“ 

“We don’t sleep here. We keep moving, fighting, killing. That’s the punishment” he says while climbing up a tree, not bothering to look at you “Come with me”. 

You sigh, and follow him once again. 

When you’re both far up enough, there’s no other option than to lay as close as you can to him, so neither of you fall down. You cuddle up in his chest. He doesn’t say a word as you do so, just slips an arm behind your waist so you don’t lose balance. 

“So” Crowley finally speaks “A hunter”. 

You sigh once again.

“Retired. Sort of” you try to tell and he chuckles. 

“I have it on good source there’s no such thing as a ‘retired’ hunter”. He’s not wrong. 

“Yeah well, that was exactly my problem” you say, closing your eyes for a second, but damn you, you can’t feel sleepy not even trying “Name’s (Y/N), by the way. You never asked”. 

“I figured you wouldn’t tell me if I asked” he guesses and you half smirk “I’m planning on keeping the nicknames either way”. 

You roll your eyes.

“Never told you not to” you tease and now he’s the one to half smirk “Who’s your ‘good source’?” you ask changing the subject.

“The Winchesters. You must have heard of them”. You’re not quite sure but it seems to you there’s a hint of nostalgia in his voice. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell” you confess muttering, the darkness suddenly weighing on you. You cuddle up to him even more. 

“It doesn’t?” he interrogates incredulously “That’s... weird. To say the least”. 

“Very” you agree. You thought you knew every hunter in the country. 

“They’ve stopped one or two little Apocalypses” he tells you. You laugh lowly. 

“I’m guessing you were good friends” you assume, and you don’t know it but Crowley’s heart breaks a little.

“More like archenemies” he reflects after a few moments, but you don’t believe him for a second.

“You’re not serious”.

“Deadly”. 

You stay quiet with this last statement and opt to stay silent in his arms, as the minutes pass. 

“I think I can help you go back” he murmurs. You frown.

“How?” 

“I don’t know much, but the same good source... told me there’s a way out. A portal back, if you will”. 

“That’s just a myth” you say, a sparkle of hope shinning through nonetheless.

“It got them out” he says, referring to his friends. 

You huff and shrug shortly afterwards.

“Well if you’re gonna help me go back” you talk distracted drawing circles in his chest “You can get back too right?” 

“I don’t know if it works for demons”. You gasp, you thought he was just a common... well, human.

“Demons don’t go to Purgatory” you mumble, which makes him exhale absently.

“Apparently I did”. 

His confession puts you in alert, you still don’t understand, but you know now’s not the time to discuss it, now you need to survive, and that’s not going to happen without Crowley. You’re tired, confused, and besides, at this point, being dead, in freaking Purgatory, you couldn’t care less about what he is.

Your body begins to feel drowsy, you haven’t closed your eyes at all and the lack of movement feels paralyzing. 

“Ready to get moving love?” Crowley asks you when he feels you shifting. You nod and disentangle yourself from him, slowly getting down the tree. 

What seems like days, or maybe even weeks, you spend it together. It’s getting tiring. You’ve found better weapons but it feels as if you’re just walking in circles. Maybe you are. You enjoy Crowley’s company, but there had been hunts, or more like survivals, you’ve been about to give up. He has noticed and has saved your ass more times than you could count. 

“I can’t do this anymore” you tell him one day while you’re next to a river, getting freshed up. He sighs. 

“We’re almost there (Y/N). Humans don’t belong here. The portal will spit you out the moment we get to it” he explains carefully.

“And I suppose you want a ticket out” you mock but he looks you in the eye, dead serious. 

“I don’t expect you to take me with you” he admits and takes you by surprise, his expression makes you gulp so you nod silently. He sighs again “I’ve done horrible things, love. Things you can’t even imagine. I’ve killed, I’ve kidnapped, I’ve tortured”. 

“But you’ve changed” you dare say, a slight smile appearing on his lips “I love it when you smile”. 

This time he grins naturally. You’re about to say something else when two asteroids of black mud drop to the dirt right next to you. 

“Bollocks” Crowley mutters “(Y/N) run!” 

You start seeing how the strange goo takes human form, whilst you step backwards to stand behind Crowley. 

“Go for the head” he indicates quickly, before whatever the things that you’re facing come right at you. 

You fight until they are beheaded on the floor. Crowley takes your hand, moving you away from the scene so no more of those find you. 

“What were those?” you say as Crowley pushes you to keep moving, your eyes in shock looking at the scene.

“Leviathan. I’ll explain later, now we’ve gotta run”.

You reach a safe spot in the woods and cover yourself in leafs as camouflage. 

“Crowley” you mutter almost inaudible “What the hell?” 

You are laying next to each other, his body almost melting in yours because of the need of heat and compact. 

He begins sighing, and tells you all about his life. His time as a human, as a demon, the Winchesters, Apocalypse, the angels, leviathans, him as a blood junkie, the need of love, of comfort and feelings.

You listen expectantly, you had never thought you’d see that side of Crowley. 

He finishes the story telling you about Lucifer and the Cage, how his ego, and his need for revenge, wanted to win, to see Lucifer suffer. 

“So... King of Hell huh?” you mock, speaking when he’s done, he just huffs playfully “But neither of those things were all that made you sacrifice yourself, were they?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head lightly. 

“I’d like to think after that the Winchesters finally saw that I was on their side” he admits “There was a time you wouldn’t see me fighting, I would be the one to witness the fights and do nothing... maybe God is punishing me for that”. 

“Maybe...” you say “Damn it. I should’ve quit hunting when I could”. 

Crowley chuckles. 

“Why are you telling me this anyways?” you continue timidly.

“I’m getting you out of here, (Y/N). I figured, we’re just a few more hours until we get to the portal... what is a little more softness from my part?”

“Why?” you still demand “Why would you help me if there isn’t anything in it for you?” 

“Because it’s the right thing to do” he says with a serious face. 

You keep talking for a while. You tell him a bit about your life, hunting, family, friends... and he listens attentive, stroking your hair as the words come out of your mouth. 

Afterwards, you stay silent, leaving the conversation at that. It’s been a few rough days (if you can call that days), and you two have shared more than enough to each other. 

“(Y/N)...” he calls your name quietly “Before we leave, there’s something I need to do”. 

“What is it?” you say lifting yourself up a bit to look him in the eyes. His scruffed beard almost grazing your chin, his eyes looking at your mouth. 

“Care to guess?” he says as he catches your lips in a gasp, you part them and begin exploring his mouth, letting his tongue dive into yours, deepening the kiss.

The heat is consuming the both of you, desperation and need for contact, for love, catches you two off guard, wandering for more. Your hand roams across his chest, grabbing him and closing any single distance existing in between, and then travels to his crotch. His on the other side, moves to your hair and pulls you to him, his other hand tightening on your waist, an eager grasp, but he stops you right there.

“(Y/N)” he says softly “I... we can’t”.

“Why not?” you say confused, still kissing his neck and jaw. 

“We could get killed” he explains holding you gently, making you look at him “We need to keep moving, we’re almost there”. 

“What if I never see you again?” you ask, voice cracking. He gives you a light, sad smile. 

“Hopefully, you won’t” he jokes, embracing you tightly. Sideways, you get a peek of what you think it’s a tear leaving his eye. 

You get up feeling heavy. This place has weighed on you but so has the fact that Crowley seems decided to stay behind, and you’ve come... to love him, actually. 

A few hours walking pass. The forest is in absolute silence, monsters just in the distance.

Suddenly, an electromagnetic force starts calling your senses, you feel drawn to it. 

“We’re almost there” you tell him, knees beginning to feel weak after all the walking, the fighting. You feel like you’ve been swimming non-stop all this time and just now you are about to touch mainland. Crowley smiles and nods, sensing you’re probably right. 

Finally, the portal appears in front of your eyes. Blue, electric lights, the end of the tunnel. 

Crowley stands close behind you, waiting for you to go, suppressing the need to cry and scream and curse at watching you leave. 

Unexpectedly, you turn to him and grab his hand, pulling him with you.

“You’re coming with me” you tell him with one foot on the other side of the almost closed portal.

“Are you out of your bloody mind?!” he yells “You don’t know if it’ll work!”

“I have to try!” you yell back almost in a sob, and with one last pull, Crowley’s inside the portal with you, it closes instantly and spins you around for what seems like eternity. 

You wake up in a field in the middle of nowhere. There’s no road, no signs, no nothing. And Crowley is nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it!” you scream at the sky in tears, realizing the portal must’ve bounced him right back at Purgatory. Or maybe even some place worse. 

“Quite the temper, haven’t we?” a voice coming from behind some bushes startles you. 

It’s him.

You can’t believe it.

It’s really him.

“Crowley!” you say running to him. He picks you up in his arms and hugs you as if he hadn’t seen you in decades. 

“Hello, darling” he greets softly leaving you on the ground, wiping the tears off your cheeks with his thumb. 

“I thought I’d lost you”.

“Well, no. Apparently you’re not so lucky” he mocks and you laugh, smacking him lightly on the chest. 

“So” you start “What now? Can’t you use your demon powers to zap us out of here?” 

He makes a thoughtful face for a second and then shakes his head.

“I think they’re gone” he confesses.

“What do you mean gone? As in gone-gone?” you interrogate in surprise.

“Yes as in gone-gone” he admits rolling his eyes playfully “I don’t understand why I...”

“Maybe you’re getting a second chance” you tell him with a grin, which he returns but it’s not quite sure about “Whatever, we’ll... we’ll figure something out”. 

Now’s the time to keep walking, this time hand in hand, no weapons needed, until you find the main road and manage to sneak into the back of a truck. 

When you get to the civilization, you politely ask some woman on the street if you can use their phone to call some pals. They send you some cash so you can go back home. 

You get to your apartment after what appears to be a lifetime, though your friends tell you it’s just been four months since they last heard from you. 

Both you and Crowley strip out of your dirty, ragged clothes and get into the shower together, washing down the dirt and blood, but it’s more than that, it’s a new start.

You get Crowley a towel to dry himself, which he does with you sitting on his lap, drying yourself as well. 

“What’s next, Kitten?” he asks when he’s finished, wrapping his arms around your waist, seeing as you drop the towel to the floor. 

“Well no more hunting, for starters” you declare and he chuckles “Apart from that, I have no idea”. 

You stop to think for an instant. 

“Does this mean you’re entirely human?” you ask shyly. He looks at you, a mix of fear and hope in his eyes. 

“Shall we find out?” he interrogates and you nod, placing your hand to his chest, relaxing the moment you sense his heartbeat “Go get the holy water, Pet. We should be sure anyways”. 

So you test him with holy water, salt, a demon trap, and even a demon knife you had laying around. He’s human. 

The two of you grin lightly and stay embraced for a while in the couch, taking in the scent of the other, still naked. 

He stays quiet for a bit, but then clears his throat and speaks again.

“Do you mind if I use your phone to call my... Moose and Squirrel?” he asks, tone a bit shy. 

“Be my guest” you say smiling, lifting up from him so he can put an oversized old robe you had on and call his friends. 

You hear some rings through the phone.

“Funny” he says lowly “Says none of this numbers exist”. 

“What?” you say frowning “Try again”. 

He does but the machine keeps telling him the same.

“Well, maybe they ditched their phones?” you presume “They’re hunters, wouldn’t be uncommon”. 

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t” he reflects.

“Have you got an address?” you ask “If the Impala hasn’t been stolen, we could pay them a visit”. 

He nods still a bit confused. 

“The Impala?” he questions carefully. 

“Yeah, my car”.

He goes silent again, but sighs and shrugs shortly afterwards.

“Do you have any clothes that’ll fit me?” he says doubtful.

“Yeah, I must’ve somewhere”.

You look through the drawers and find some men clothes. Must be from a friend, or an ex-boyfriend or something.

“Hopefully this’ll fit” you say handing him over a pair of black jeans, plain black t-shirt and black shoes. He sighs.

“We’re going shopping after this” he declares starting to change, you laugh and roll your eyes. 

When you hit the road, the address he gives you seems oddly familiar, but you decide not to ask questions just yet, and instead wait to see what happens. 

You feel safe with him on the road. His hand on your knee while you drive and his absent stare on the highway. 

You get to the place and... you weren’t wrong, this is your old grandparents house. 

“Crowley...” you begin as he gets out of the car and towards the door “What are we doing here?” 

“We...” he says as he tries to open the door, and can’t but notice this place doesn’t look quite similar to what he remembered, and it hasn’t even been that long. You frown and take out the old keys to open the door. He stares at you in shock. 

“My grandparents used to live here. Men of Letters and all” you chuckle opening the door, Crowley has gone silent. You turn on the bunker’s lights and inhale the book and dust scent. 

“This whole time, it was you” he acknowledges but you don’t understand.

“What do you mean me? What are you talking about?” 

“I think... I think the portal bounced me to another dimension, to your dimension, just like I was telling you” Crowley tells you after putting two and two together.

“Oh” you finally understand “Oh”.

Inevitably, your heart fills with worry. You don’t want him to leave. 

You get back to the car and just sit there, trying to process what just happened. 

“We should go back to you place” he mutters after a while “It’ll be easier to decide what to do”. 

You nod and start the engine on. 

When you’re back at your apartment, everything feels kind of different, there’s a heavy tension coating the room. 

“I’m gonna change into something more comfortable” you state heading for your room. When you’re stripping out of your jeans, Crowley enters your bedroom as you put some pajama shorts on and losing the bra without taking your t-shirt off. When he sees you, he walks slowly over you and with a playful look pulls you to the bed with him. You begin to stroke his hair while he’s laying on your chest.

“Crowley” you mumble, unsure about what you’re about to say “Maybe we can find a way back. To your friends I mean”.

“Who says I wanna go back?” he says frowning “I was tired of having a bunch of demons on my tail the whole bloody time anyways”. 

“But aren’t you going to miss them? Sam and Dean? And Castiel? And your mother?” you say worried, it’s not like you are pushing him to leave, it really isn’t, but you don’t want him to stay if that means he won’t be happy. He already knows that. 

“Mother is dead as far as I know, as for the other three Hardy boys... they’ll do just fine without me” he says a bit nostalgic but giving you a genuine smile “Besides, I have you now, haven’t I?” 

You smile back and nod.

“Then I have everything I could possibly want or need right here” he declares, turning to kiss you

MASTERLIST

[joshstambourine]

Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

CONQUEST

Prompt: Based on the song Conquest (which originally is a Patti Page song but I’m using The White Stripes version because I love Jack White 🥰)

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Seth Rollins x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, love spell, a witch and a heartbreaker.

Tag: @marlananicole , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360 , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Notes: So, one of my best friends was digging through her old laptop (one I used to use all the time when I was in her house) and found this little treasure into one of the writing folders. She thought it would be a good idea for me to post it so she sent it to me ☺️ Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings, english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla), check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Conquest

He was out to make a conquest

Didn't care what harm was done

Just as long as he won the prize

‘The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen’ that’s how I would describe him.

‘The biggest manwhore in the world’ is also how I would describe him.

Not trustworthy at all, but still, that didn’t stopped me from wanting him...

Conquest

She was just another conquest

Didn't care whose heart was broke

Love to him was a joke

'Til he looked into her eyes

Softly singing an enchantment, I pour the honey and rose petals on the bowl. As the candles burned, I imagine my soon to be husband...his long dark hair, hypnotic chocolate brown eyes, smug smile, full beard, soft lips, rough hands that I couldn’t wait to have it roaming through my body

And then in the strange way things happen

Their roles were reversed from that day

The hunted became the huntress

The hunter became the prey

I walk into the pub I always see him at, and faithfully there he is. One redhead sitting on his left thigh, one blonde sitting on his right thigh but I don’t let that discourage me, that was expected considering whom we are talking about.

I take a sit at one of the bar stools and ordered a jack and coke. All I had to do was wait for him to make his move, which I knew he would at any minute now.

After 10 minutes, I can feel his gaze upon my figure...weighing his options, debating what should he do, what should he say, how he should approach me.

He left both women sitting there and made his way to the bar

“Jack and coke, huh? You don’t seem like the type”

“Don’t seem like the type of what?” I asked him

“Who likes the stronger stuff” He smirks

“Oh darling, you have no idea” I giggled, sipping my drink

“I’m Seth, by the way. You?”

“I thought you already had company” I point with my chin towards the two women waiting for him

“Well, nice to meet you Mrs. I thought you already had company. It’s a lovely name although kinda long” Seth chuckled

I rolled my eyes, saying “Y/N, the name is Y/N”

“So what do you say about finishing your drink back at my place, Y/N?”

“I would love to” I smiled fondly

Conquest

Now you know who made the conquest

She with all her female guile

Led him helpless down the aisle

She had finally made a conquest

Enjoying our post orgasmic bliss laying on his bed, Seth asked

“Is it true what people say?”

“About?”

“You being the daughter of the most powerful witch in Iowa?” He laughed

“What?” I rest my chin upon his chest “Of course not!” I lied “Do people still talk about that?” I chuckled

“Apparently yes, they still do” Seth seemed embarrassed

“I swear this people still think we live in the XVI century!” I straddle his hips, letting the sheet that covered my body fall upon his chest.

“If that was the case, I would have done some sort of love spell for you, wouldn’t I?” I tease him

“I guess you would” He smirked when my hips began to move, making him grow hard again

“Do you think I did that, Seth?”

“You would never do that, baby” He moaned

I position him at my entrance and sank down on it, making us both gasp. I begin to ride him and leaning down to his lips I whispered

“Of course I wouldn’t!” I lie and kissed his lips.

And then in the strange way things happen

Their roles were reversed from that day

The hunted became the huntress

The hunter became the prey

6 MONTHS LATER

“I love you” Seth giggles, offering me some of his ice cream

“I love you too, babe” I gave it a lick on his ice cream “That’s so good!” I moan

“Told you” He cackled, sitting down in one of the park benches and pulling me down, to sit on his lap

“Marry me” He suddenly said, making me almost choke on the ice cream

“What?”

“I said, marry me” Seth chuckled

“What kind of man are you? You don’t even ask, just assume I’ll say yes! That hurts, babe” I joke

Seth laughed loud

“I love you, you’re the woman of my life and you love me. There’s no need for asking! It’s a simple math...So, will you?” He asked hopeful

“Yes, I will” I smiled widely

Conquest

Now you know who made the conquest

She with all her female guile

Led him helpless down the aisle

She had finally made a conquest

Conquest

2 MONTHS LATER

“So, what do you think?” Seth asked as I look around our honeymoon suite in Hawaii.

“It’s perfect” I touched the rose petals upon the bed

“You’re perfect! Everything I’ve always wanted in a woman. My world, my wife, my life, my everything” He kissed me lovingly

“And no witch spell was required for that” Seth joked

“No” I giggled and hugged him tightly, placing my chin upon his shoulder “Of course not!” I lied

Staring at the ocean with a smug smirk on my face...

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[vivithefolle]

I'm a bit confused. You said in one post that you thoroughly dislike Hermione and that you had no respect for her at all. Yet ... you like Romione? idk, it seems contradictory tbh. I like when Romione shippers acknowledge her flaws and messed up moments but when someone that dislike and even hate her character that much ships Romione and I see them posting about them and calling them "cute" just seems weird

I’ll share with you my whole thought process so you can understand where I’m coming from:

Itty-bitty Vivi who read Harry Potter for the first time (at 13/14, so not so itty-bitty I guess, oops): Woaaah Hermione and Ron yaay!!! They're awesome I love them! They're my OTP always and forever!! Best thing to happen in Harry Potter!! JKR is a genius!

Slightly less itty-bitty Vivi discovering the Harry Potter fandom online (thankfully years after the ship wars, else I probably wouldn't have survived): Why is there so much hate towards Ron? And why are people so opposed to Romione?? It was meant to be since the first book! Or, okay, the second book is when I realized it was gonna happen, but still! Oh well, here is a fic where Hermione berates Ron for everything and he is the only one actually working for their relationship. Cool, more Romione!

Even less itty-bitty Vivi starting her own Tumblr and going around, adding her grain of salt to debates and talking about stuff: Yeah! Ron is great! He's done bad things of course but Hermione has done her fair share of bad things too! Actually, now that I'm rereading the books, I'm reminded of this person I used to call a friend, who was quite smart and cultured but would often be very harsh to me because they claimed it was “for your own good" and “because I'm more mature than you"… I still wanted to be around them, because they were just so smart and passionate, but we often rowed and eventually they really just went too far and tried to make ME out to be the bad guy and most people believed them because they had a reputation as someone cool and logical while I was known for being emotional… wait, what the fuck, that's… that's exactly what happens in the fandom with Ron and Hermione! What the fuck, was I Ron? Admired their intelligence, praised and supported them, fell in love even but was met with scorn and open disdain?!… no, no, come on. Hermione wasn't that bad.

Vivi rereading Half-Blood Prince (and no, this wasn't about the canaries, but about what Hermione was doing after): Oh my god she was that bad.

Vivi as she ponders alternately: Wait, what about JK Rowling? What does she think about all that? What was her intention, what did she want to accomplish with the characters? I know books belong to their readers but if I want as objective an analysis as possible I must try to understand her thought process while she wrote.

Vivi learning about a staple of British literature called “literary alchemy”: The quarreling couple!! Sulfur and Mercury, the Red King and the White Queen, who must marry for the story to end happily!! And their union is represented by… a rose!! Oh my god, that is brilliant, that is so cool! Romione was ALWAYS going to happen, I knew it! Ha!

Vivi discovering the “[Ron] needed to make himself worthy of Hermione” quote: Wha… but… what? Worthy? As if Hermione was some sort of precious trophy or whatever? What the hell? Wait, Ron had to make himself worthy of her but Hermione didn't have to make herself worthy of him? Is it because Ron is the boy or some shit like that??

Vivi going through JK Rowling's interviews and finding sexism and double-standards galore: Yep, it's because he's the boy. And that bit about Hermione being based off herself when she was younger… ouch. And to top it off the scriptwriter pretty much worshipped Hermione…

Vivi rereading the books again: Is it just me, or does Ron hardly ever get any praise or acknowledgement from the adult characters? Meanwhile Harry and Hermione get stuff like “as good as Charlie Weasley" or “brightest witch of her age"! And, damn, I used to side with Hermione because I love cats, but she was completely awful in POA! She apologized but then the plot made her out to be right even then?? And I always thought her Yule Ball entrance was kinda over-the-top, but damn if that's not compensating for something! Also what the hell, I get that Harry is suffering and all but will someone PLEASE pay attention to the fact that Ron is being bullied BY A FOURTH OF THE STUDENT BODY AND NOBODY SEEMS EVEN REMOTELY CONCERNED????? Also what the hell is wrong with the sixth book, I never liked it much but it's like it's trying to make every character look bad, wtf?? And, and, holy shit I never noticed but Ron was asking legit questions during the Horcrux Hunt debate but Harry kept deflecting or mocking him but it's still Ron who had to apologize in the end??? And I've read a whole post about how Hermione punching Ron is the appropriate reaction for a very small child and not a supposedly “mature" character, and that Harry had to SHIELD RON FROM HER, oh my god?? It's… oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with JK Rowling?

Vivi, in denial: Well, Harry Potter is decidedly not a romance. It's about love, but romantic love is quite far down the priority list when it comes to it. JKR has herself confessed that she wasn't too good at writing romance, and I don't blame her because writing romance is hard. But I did enjoy Romione! When I was little I saw it coming from a mile away, granted I was already savvy in literature but that must have been because she was doing something right! And then the sixth book happened… the sixth book which… which was released after the Harry Potter movies were being filmed, wasn't it?

Vivi looking up the timelines: Oh my god. Oh my god it's even worse, the movies were being discussed before Goblet of Fire came out. Come to think of it, I always found that the Trio felt… different, after Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry and Ron especially felt like they had gotten dumber? And Hermione was suddenly explaining everything when exposition used to be split between her and Ron…

Vivi, in mourning: So that's what happened. Ron ended up being shortchanged to make Hermione look better, because Rowling was fonder of Hermione than she was of Ron, and the scriptwriter too come to think of it. Curse you, Steve Kloves!!!

Vivi, who is nothing if not what Pokémon fans call a nostalgiafag: But… but… yeah, it sucks that Ron was shortchanged, and actually yeah it's a freaking travesty and I WILL freaking spread the world about this, mark my words, but, but I still… I can't help it, when Hermione “looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt" I melt too. When Ron compliments Hermione or tries to take care of her as much as he can I… it still does something to me, I still find myself rooting for them even if I know there's the awful sixth book and the stupid post-Locket beatdown. Their kiss, for God's sake, I've just realized that Ron may have swept Hermione off her feet physically, but it's Hermione who jumped him, you could say Hermione metaphorically swept Ron off his feet!! God damn it, that's good, that's so good!

Vivi, at war with herself: No, I can't let myself be blinded by nostalgia!! The facts are that Hermione shows borderline abusive - even actually abusive - behaviour, this can't be denied! I don't want to root for an abusive relationship! I don't want to root for a relationship that relies on my favourite character being dumbed down to work!!!

Vivi, about to uncover the secrets of the universe: … wait a second. I don't have to.

Vivi, having an epiphany: Reading Solstice Muse's Romione fanfics gives me such happiness because she just gets the characters! She doesn't portray Hermione as perfect and never fucking up, and she always treats what happens to Ron with respect… Well, especially since she can't play them off as a joke since she often makes Ron the POV character. But, yeah! I can still like Romione… if it's well-written. Which, well, isn't the case in the original books… at least, isn't the case anymore after Rowling's bias got the best of her. Even though they do have their great moments.

Vivi, finding purpose in her life: I am going to spread awareness. I am going to tell the world. Fuck, just rereading the books, I've noticed how blatant the favouritism is and how unbalanced it can be. No wonder the fandom seems to collectively scoff at Ron - the books themselves do whenever it's convenient for them! The fandom plays favourites, because the author herself played favourites, and the worst part is that she didn't even realize it! Imagine you spend your life getting into traumatic situations out of love for your friends who always receive compassion and validation for their feelings about said traumas, but YOUR trauma is hardly touched upon and in the rare case it is, it's only to be mocked or used against you… Fuck! You're a piece of work, JKR! And the fandom just swallows it whole like a bunch of lobotomized snakes! Screw it! Screw it, I'm going to say it like it is, and I'm going to say it LOUDLY! People are going to hear about what Ron goes through and we'll see if Harry and Hermione look like the only ones worthy of therapy then!!

Present day Vivi, as she scrolls through the (heavily filtered) Romione tag on AO3: Ugh, another Drarry… and another… and another… oh, a Hinny-centric fic for a change, cool but I'm looking for more Romione than that, sorry. Gah, why is it that Romione appears as a secondary ship everywhere but they can't get their own stories? I've just seen a Snupin come up for God's sake! Oh, finally, a full Romione!! *clicks* … … … awww that was so sweet. Kudos! Okay back to the search… oh, another one!! *clicks* … … … it's Ron-bashing. It's Ron-bashing and it's not tagged Ron-bashing and that's why it showed up in my search AND I'M GOING TO FREAKING RIOT-

[kittyprincessofcats]

RWBY Volume 6

So, I pretty much binge-watched this one in a few days because I really needed to know how things go on after Volume 5 and it was just so good! Lots of messy thoughts to come!

[There will be spoilers for RWBY up to Volume 6 in this post (duh). Please don’t leave any spoilers for anything after Volume 6 on this post, or I will block you.]

Thoughts under the cut because this ended up getting a little long.

- The character short for Adam was really cool! It was cool to see how the White Fang began, to see Sienna, Ghira, Ilia and Adam in action, to see the irony of Sienna being a mentor to Adam and encouraging his ways when you know he’ll end up killing her, and to see a glimpse into Adam and Blake’s past relationship (and how the stuff he said to her was textbook emotional abuse). However, I do have one criticism, and it’s something that really bothers me: There’s a continuity mistake with Ilia’s age. Let’s think about this: Ilia was always implied to be the same age (or around the same age) as Blake. In the part of this short where Ghira was still leader of the White Fang, Ilia appears and doesn’t look younger than in canon. But we know Ghira stepped down at least a few years ago. If Blake is meant to be a teenager in volume 1… there’s just no way Ilia could have been there and already been an adult. She’s supposed to have still been a kid when Ghira was leader, unless she’s at least a few years older than Blake – which I don’t think she’s meant to be? Yeah sorry, this kind of stuff just bothers me. I get that timelines can be hard to keep track off, but that was a really obvious mistake and it ruins my immersion a bit.

- I loved the whole opening fight on the train and just seeing team RWBY fighting together again.

- I’ve got to say, I do feel bad for Weiss: After everything she went through to leave Atlas, she now suddenly has to go back there. I mean, that must suck.

- I’m a bit sad they just but Ilia on a bus, but I get that her main conflict is pretty much over and they had to go back to focusing on the main characters’ quest. I still wish we’d have at least gotten a scene of her interacting with the other members of team RWBY, though.

- I really liked Ilia and Blake’s goodbye at the train station, though. (And the whole “wrong tree” moment with Neptune really made me laugh 😂)

- Also just wanted to say I love Ilia’s new outfit (and the fact that she has spots on her belly – this is really important information, okay?)

- There’s a certain irony in the Faunus becoming more accepted because they STOPPED Adam’s attack on Haven.

- I think Jinn and the whole concept of how asking her questions works is super cool.

- I totally get why everyone’s pissed at Ozpin both before, during and after Jinn revealed his and Salem’s backstory. He has been hiding an awful lot from everyone, even after promising not to anymore, and he actively tried to stop the team from finding out the truth. Plus, the whole fact that he doesn’t have a plan for defeating Salem and is potentially risking everyone’s lives for nothing. (That said, can they not take it out on poor Oscar, please? None of this is his fault.)

- Oscar fighting Ozpin from within and telling them how to summon Jinn was a really badass scene. And I feel super bad for Oscar overall. Not only is he kind of at war with someone who lives in his brain now, but he also just found out that he’ll eventually only become a part of Ozma. And on top of that, people are punching and blaming him for stuff that’s not his fault. That’s super harsh.

- I’m kind of glad Cinder’s alive, because as I said, I was hoping they’d develop her more and make her a more interesting villain… but I don’t feel like this volume did that. Right now, she’s still pretty superficial, unfortunately.

- And now, time to get into one of the highlights of this volume for me: Salem’s backstory! Because holy shit, that was one hell of a backstory! When I said back in my post about volume 5 that I hope Cinder’s alive because I would like to see them make her a more interesting villain, I didn’t expect them to do just that, but for Salem. I love villains that are interesting, but I didn’t expect Salem, the literal big bad of the show, to be the interesting one here! I am pleasantly surprised by this, though! (And just to be clear, because some people love to misunderstand this: When I say “interesting”, I don’t mean “She has a sad backstory, this excuses everything she’s doing”, I mean “She has a sad backstory, this makes her more compelling as a villain”.)

- So, about that backstory: Do we all agree that the gods are major jerks, or what? I mean, initially not bringing Ozma back to life was fair, death is a part of life, they can’t upset the balance, I get that – but making him repeatedly disintegrate in Salem’s arms after she just thought she’d gotten him back? And then making her immortal just to make sure she couldn’t be with him? And then killing ALL of humanity just because of the actions of a few? But still not letting Salem die? And then bringing Ozma back after all (because now it suddenly doesn’t ‘disrupt the balance’ or what?) and kind of tricking him into that whole relics task because he wanted to be with Salem? The god are jerks, I rest my case - and I’m not sure if bringing them back is a good idea.

- Also… I get that she’s like… evil and all… but am I the only one who thought Salem got way sexier after jumping into the pools of grimm? Is that just me? Because damn… I’m kinda into that version of her. (Come on, she’s a sexy goth witch and I’m a simple lesbian, what do you expect?)

- So yeah… in an unexpected turn of events, Salem might be one of my favourite characters now? Oops? (*insert obligatory ‘this does not mean I condone her actions in any way’ disclaimer here*)

- I feel super bad for Salem and Ozma’s kids, though. I hate kids getting hurt in media in general. (I imagine the grief over them stayed with Ozma forever. And I like the theory that he gave the original four maidens their powers because they reminded him of his daughters. In general, I don’t consider him to be the bad guy in this backstory at any point. His only mistake is not being honest with the people who are helping and protecting him in the present.)

- I am now convinced that this entire show has to end with Salem and Ozma dying. That’s the only way all of this can end. Salem will have to either be killed somehow or learn the lesson the gods tried to teach her and die. Ozma will have to fulfill his task and die as well – either through Oscar dying with him (😢), through only Ozma dying but Oscar getting to live without him, or through the reincarnation cycle ending and Ozma/Ozpin recognizing that Oscar is going to be his last life. Something like that would be my prediction.

- Speaking of interesting villains: This volume also did a great job with Emerald and Mercury! With those two, I’m actually hoping for a redemption now. (And Hazel is a great guy as well. The fact that he was willing to take the blame for their failure at Haven to protect Emerald and Mercury is something I really respect.)

- I also I want to say I find Tyrion super entertaining.

- It was great to see Neo again! (I’ve gotten so used to Chibi!Neo it was almost weird to see regular Neo again.) Her fight with Cinder was EPIC.

- (I basically feel like this volume did a great job on all villains except for Cinder. But hey, maybe that’ll still happen.)

- This was an interesting volume for Qrow. On the one hand, I get why hearing Oz’s backstory drove him into a sort-of depression and made his drinking habit worse and I feel bad for him, but from the point-of-view of Ruby and the others, it must have also been super frustrating that the one proper adult in the group couldn’t keep it together and everyone else had to keep doing the hard work.

- Maria is a super cool and epic character! I really hope she sticks around with the team for Volume 7 because she’s amazing and I love her. She was super badass in her backstory (that moment where she lost her eyes was painful just to watch), I love the fact that she was Qrow’s hero growing up (and that he based his weapon on hers!), that we finally met another character who has (well, had) silver eyes, and that she’s that funny, cranky, but also wise old lady now who mentors Ruby and is just super funny all around. Good stuff, I hope we see more of her!

- The Apathy are the creepiest grim yet. The whole concept of them draining you of your will to live without you even noticing is just SO scary – I love it, but I’m also low-key terrified. The crew’s trip to that farm estate could have easily gone very wrong. Pretty much nothing but Ruby’s silver eyes even worked on them. I like how those episodes set the whole thing up – Team RWBY having emotional conversations while they were in the house, everyone having doubts (which makes sense at that point in the story, so you don’t really question it at first), and then the sneaking realization of what’s going on. Also, the guy who sealed in those Apathy grim in in the first place was just so dumb. How could you think that was a good idea? Good job getting everyone killed, dude.

- I’m glad this volume gave us more on Ruby’s silver eyes! I like that she finally got to use them before the season finale (though I loved that joke on RWBY Chibi), and I also like that she first used them to protect Blake. (I don’t ship them as much as Bumbleby, but I feel like Ruby and Blake’s ship/friendship is super underrated.) It was also nice to learn more about how the Silver eyes work in general and how they came to be. (If they came from the god of light, I’m assuming all the people with silver eyes are the descendants of Ozma’s past lives? TV Tropes kind of helped me out here: Apparently if you freeze the picture where you see one of his past lives with his kids, you can see the kids have silver eyes.) People with silver eyes being hunted also comes as no surprise to me, that’s kind of what I was assuming already. (Which raises the question: Just how did Summer Rose die?) Also, interesting fact that they only work on the Grimm...

- That moment where they reunite with JNR in Argus was really sweet. I also loved the design of Argus as a whole.

- I LOVE Saphron, Terra, and their son!!! I love that we got to meet one of Jaune’s sisters, I love that we got some more LGBT+ representation, and their baby is adorable!! (I loved that scene of everyone cooing over the baby. Also, that moment where Ruby realized Jaune and Saphron were siblings. Also, that moment where the baby helped them distract the guards by crying.) Basically, I just love the Cotta-Arcs. (Also, I just want to say that Saphron is super pretty.)

- Cordovin and her two goons are hilarious. I mean, I also hate them because they’re overly patriotic Atlas-people and Cordovin was racist to Blake – but they’re also super freaking hilarious. Every little line of Maria and Cordovin’s beef with each other had my dying with laughter 🤣 (mainly it was Maria’s lines that had me dying with laughter).

- That whole scene with the statue of Pyrrha was such a tearjerker 😢. First the leaf, then the sad music, then Jaune talking to that red-haired lady (I’m guessing she’s either Pyrrha’s mom or sister?), and then Ren and Nora joining and giving Jaune a pep-talk 😭 😭. I think this was a really important moment for Jaune, not just to get closure, but also to stop blaming himself and putting himself down. I’m glad Ren and Nora told him they don’t want to lose him too, and that the red-haired lady said she’s “glad Pyrrha was surrounded by such amazing people”. Gosh, now I’m tearing up again writing this 😭. I miss Pyrrha 😭 😭.

- I love Oscar’s new outfit. It was time for him to finally drop the farm boy look.

- I love how Jaune is so down for crime that his plan is just “They only let Atlas airships though, so we steal an Atlas airship.” I mean, makes sense.

- I think their whole plan to steal the airship was super cool and although I get why things can’t be that easy in shows like this (and I love that we got the showdown with Adam), I still kind of wish it had worked just because it was a really cool plan and everyone had their part to play in it. Heck, even the baby got to help (and it was awesome)! But yeah, Adam just had to ruin everything, nothing new there.

- So, about Adam: First of all, he’s a major creep for victim-blaming Blake (again) and stalking her. I like how creepy his behaviour is from a story-telling perspective (and from an angst-loving “I like seeing my faves suffer” perspective), but his story was getting a little old, so I’m not too sad they killed him off now. It was a good point in the story to do it. (That said, holy shit is he a creep! “I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just behaved”? Wow. I get that he’s meant to be abusive and controlling; that’s the point of his character (and like I said, I’m here for the angst), but… yikes, poor Blake.)

- And then we had Blake and Yang’s rematch with Adam. EPIC STUFF. First of all, I like that Blake was able to hold her own against him for a bit (and same for Yang later). I also love the whole dramatic setting by the waterfall and the fact that Blake lost her coat (this is important, okay? it symbolizes vulnerability – and also it just looks cool), the scar on Blake’s belly (from their fight at Beacon, right?), the face reveal of Adam – I just love how all of this was set up in such an epic, dramatic way. But the most epic moment, at least from the start of the fight, has got to be Yang just jumping down there with her motorcycle hitting Adam and that amazing music. I’ve said before that Yang is just too cool for words and I will stand by that. The fight itself was epic too, though I was so stressed the whole time I couldn’t completely pay attention. Blake and Yang fighting Adam together was definitely the best part, though. And I loved the irony of Yang’s metal arm saving her. In general, I like that Yang and Blake got to fight and defeat (and kill) Adam together because he’s been a demon for both of them, and I like that they clarified they’re doing it as equal partners. “We’re protecting each other” was a nice callback to earlier when Blake tried to reassure Yang she’d protect her, and to even earlier when Yang was protecting Blake at Beacon.

- Let’s talk about my other highlight of the volume: Bumbleby! Because sorry not sorry, there’s no way you can deny their romantic subtext anymore at this point. Early in the volume, there’s the conflict of things being weird between them, and Blake not knowing how to deal with her guilt and thinking she needs to protect Yang (and do stuff like getting her bag down for her) – while Yang feels insulted by this and thinks that Blake sees her as being incapable of doing anything now that she lost an arm. Then, when Blake first leaves to disable the comms, they give each other those really sweet, loving looks. And of course, it all leads up to them confronting their nightmare together, holding hands, and declaring that they’re protecting each other. Add Adam’s jealousy to that (He was making comparisons between himself and Yang and asking “What does she even see in you?” – that’s not a sentence you just say to your ex’s friend) and you’d have to be willfully ignorant to not see the subtext. And those soft moments after the fight just killed me: Blake breaking down crying, Yang immediately running to hug and comfort her, Blake’s promise not to leave, Yang reassuring her and wiping away her tears – I LOVE hurt/comfort stuff and I’m so soft for these two! They love each other so much!

(Pretty much the only downside of all this is that a few major parts were spoiled for me in advance. Look, it’s pretty impossible to follow lots of blogs that post wlw ships and not see that picture of Bumbleby holding hands, or the one of them hugging (or the one of them killing Adam) at some point. So yeah… I’d seen all three of those pictures before and knew this would happen. But it was still really nice to see it all come together and see how we got there!)

- The fight against Cordovin and her giant mecha was also pretty cool! It reminded me a bit of the Legend of Korra finale. Ruby going inside the arm canon was an especially epic moment. And I also liked that small moment when they were flying on the Queen Lancer and Ruby had her arms around Weiss’ waist (a bit of White Rose, yay!).

- I like that moment when the Grimm attack and the team first realizes they just destroyed the only thing capable of stopping them – but to be honest, that was mostly Cordovin’s fault. She brought out that mecha for something it wasn’t meant for and started the fight that attracted the Grimm in the first place. Also, how exactly did she think the people of Atlas would take it if she had actually hurt Weiss? So yeah, most of that mess was on her, tbh. I’m glad she at least came though to help in the end, though.

- Back to Bumbleby: Honestly, the strongest romantic undertones weren’t even in the fight with Adam or directly afterwards for me, but in the last episode when they’re all on the ship together. So, Blake is blaming herself for the plan going wrong, and Yang has an arm around, her, still half holding her and reassuring her. And then – and this one really gets me – Ruby hugs Blake and gives Yang that knowing look over her shoulder while Yang suddenly looks away shyly. They’re communicating without words and Ruby totally knows what’s up. She’s basically saying “So you and Blake, huh?” and suddenly Yang – YANG – is feeling shy. This isn’t subtle. And then later Bumbleby hold hands again and look at each other like that… they’re in love, I don’t make the rules.

- And finally, we of course have Ruby’s epic silver-eyed moment in the finale, which was AMAZING. I loved all the flashbacks and how they’re drawn pictures and not just stills from the episodes, I love how the memories of her friends motivate her, I love how much of Penny there was in there (bit of Nuts and Dolts, yay!), I loved seeing adorable little!Yang, and of course the first look at Summer Rose! (I still want a Team STRQ backstory episode at some point.) Also, the music during that scene was so good!

Gosh, now I’ve talked for way too long again, but there was just so much to say about this volume! Long story short: Loved it, can’t wait to continue! (I know exactly 1 major spoiler for volume 7 because it was unavoidable on social media, but that’s it. And it’s a spoiler I really didn’t mind knowing, so…)